


That Kid Can Fly

by imamaryanne



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Coming Out, Crossover, F/M, M/M, Quidditch, Slow Build, past Jack/Kent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-09
Updated: 2017-11-02
Packaged: 2018-05-19 09:01:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 40,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5961700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imamaryanne/pseuds/imamaryanne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack Zimmermann, captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, isn't so sure about his new chaser, Eric Bittle. Eric Bittle, for that matter, isn't so sure about his Captain....until he is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Tryouts

 

“Merlin’s pants, that kid can fly,” Shitty Knight said to his quidditch captain, Jack Zimmerman. “He doesn’t even have his own broom, he’s on one of the crappy school brooms!”

“He’s graceful up there, too,” Jack commented “Where’d he come from? I mean, I’ve seen him around and I know he’s in Gryffindor too, but I didn’t even know he was interested in quidditch.”

“You don’t know who Eric Bittle is?” Shitty commented. “All those sweets and pastries that have been hanging around the last four years in the common room are from him.”

Jack looked sideways at Shitty, “I thought the elves from the kitchen were leaving those.”

“No,” Shitty said. “The kitchen elves have given Bittle free reign of their kitchen because he loves to bake. Look, he brought treacle tart for everyone trying out.”

Jack frowned, “That’s not healthy eating for athletes.” 

Shitty just laughed, “All right, Captain. Let’s run these guys through some drills.”

Jack kept an eye on Eric Bittle. He was built exactly the opposite of the chaser he was trying to replace, Sam Wells. Where Wells was tall and muscular, Bittle was small and slight, built more like a seeker than a chaser. Of course, there was no opening on the team for a seeker. Everyone knew that Lardo was the best seeker in the whole school and she’d be a shoo-in for Gryffindor chaser. Well, everyone knew it except Kent Parson, the Slytherin chaser, who was sure that  _ he _ was the best chaser. 

Still, his broom handling was amazing. At one point he had the quaffle tucked under his arm, and when one of the beaters came barreling toward him, he pulled a spin and roll move the left Jack’s mouth agape. Moments later, however, when a bludger was hit toward him, Eric panicked, dropped the quaffle and sped toward the ground. Even from twenty feet away, Jack could see the fear written across Eric’s face. 

When he pulled out of his dive, his face was red. “Sorry,” he said. He had a lilting voice, almost sing-songish. Justin hurled a second bludger Eric’s way, and he had the same reaction. Diving out of the way in panic, with the exact same ‘sorry’ afterward.

Afraid of bludgers? Jack decided he probably would not like this kid. 

  
  


Late that night, Jack and Shitty were the only ones left in the common room. They were debating who to add to the team. 

“Chow, obviously as keeper,” Jack said. 

“Definitely,” Shitty agreed. That had been a no-brainer. Christopher Chow had saved nearly everything that had been hurled toward him, not even getting fooled by Jack’s patented trick moves. Even when Ransom and Holster had gotten in his face, trying to distract him, Chow had kept his cool in the air, ignored them, and continued to make save after glorious save. If they thought they’d miss Johnson, their old keeper now graduated, they’d been mistaken. 

“I’m not so sure about the chaser situation,” Jack said. “Bittle was good, but he’s terrified of the bludgers. If we go with Hyacinth Pullman, we won’t get the speed. But she was real solid.”

Shitty looked at Jack as if he’d lost his marbles, “You’re joking, right? Bittle’s the obvious choice. That kid can fucking  _ fly _ , and he can score. Do I need to remind you he actually put one more goal past Chow than  _ you  _ did?”

“Right, but all that has to happen is for word to get out that he’s afraid of the bludgers and it won’t matter how fast he can fly, or how he scores. Every beater out there will spend entire matches pelting him with bludgers.”

“So you teach him how to take a bludger,” Shitty shrugged. “I was in fourth year when I made the team and I wasn’t super comfortable with the bludgers hit by seventh year beaters coming at my face either.” 

Jack scowled. “I don’t want to waste practice time teaching a coward how to take bludgers.” 

“You’ve  _ got  _ to be kidding me,” Shitty leaned back and stroked his mustache thoughtfully. “Guess what Jack? Doing things like that is the job of the Captain. Your players have weaknesses, you work with them to fix them. You’re constantly on me about lazy training-”

“You do the bare minimum,” Jack accused. 

“So how is forcing me to wake up at half past dawn to go flying with you different than giving Bittle some extra bludger practice?”

“But with Hyacinth Pullman, we wouldn’t need even that,” Jack pointed out. “Plus, Bittle brought  _ treats _ to the tryouts. And he’s….tiny. He just doesn’t look like an athlete. Plus, you know….the bludgers.”

Shitty stared at Jack in disbelief for a few silent seconds, “Well, you’re the Captain. I think you’re making a mistake and I don’t quite get why you’re so determined not to give this kid a chance, just because he doesn’t  _ look _ the part of a chaser.”

“I’m just thinking of all our options,” Jack murmured. 

“Sure, Jack.” Shitty stood up and stretched. “I’m going to bed, you make your choice.” 

Jack stared morosely at the parchment in front of him. Deep down, he knew what he  _ should _ do. He knew Bittle was the right choice for the team. But there was something about him that Jack just didn’t  _ like _ and he was powerless to explain it. 

Finally he sighed and dipped his quill into ink and began to write out on the parchment. When he was done, he posted the parchment on the Gryffindor common room board, and made his way to the seventh year dormitories.    
  


 

The following morning, as the students awoke, they stopped to see what had been posted on the board.

**_Gryffindor Quidditch Team_ **

**_Chasers_ **

_ Zimmermann - Knight - Bittle _

**_Beaters_ **

_ Oluransi - Birkholtz _

**_Keeper_ **

_ Chow _

**_Seeker_ **

_ Duan _

_ -First practice this Thursday at 6:00 p.m. _

_ -If you don’t have your own broom, please make sure you buy one. The school brooms will not do in the matches. Ask Jack for a copy of Which Broomstick if you need it. _

_ -First match tentatively scheduled for 5 November against Hufflepuff.  _

 

Jack felt a hand on his shoulder, “You did good,” Shitty said. 

Jack shrugged. He had his eyes on Eric, who was coming down the stairs from the fifth year dormitory. Jack and Shitty watched together as Eric ran to the board to check the quidditch list. Eric clapped his hand over his head and make a high pitched noise. 

  
“Did he just  _ squeal _ ?” Jack asked in disgust, turning to Shitty. He was surprised to see Shitty smiling, looking pleased and genuinely happy for Eric. “I better not regret this,” Jack said, to no one in particular.


	2. The Practice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eric and Jack have extra bludger practice.

“Hey,” Jack grunted, as he sat down at breakfast next to Eric Bittle later that morning. Eric was sitting with a group of four girls, all of whom looked at Jack and giggled a little. Jack ignored them.

“Oh, Jack! Um...hi,” Eric sounded surprised that Jack was sitting next to him. 

“Listen,” Jack got right to the point. “You need work on taking bludgers. First practice is this Thursday, but I’ve booked the quidditch pitch for just me and you and either Ransom or Holster early Wednesday morning to get a head start. Be there at 5:30.”

“In the  _ morning _ ?” Eric’s voice went up an octave. 

“Is that a problem?”

Eric blushed, “No, sir.” He cringed. Did he really just call his captain _ Sir _ ?

Jack stared at him his blue eyes looking both alarmed and confused, “Please don’t call me sir. Just Jack is fine.”

“Right, yeah. Of course,” Eric stammered. 

Jack stood up to leave and thought that maybe he should say something else, something encouraging. “You really impressed us at tryouts, Bittle.” 

If Eric had blushed before, it wasn’t anything to how scarlet his face became now. “Well, thanks Jack. That’s nice to hear.” 

Jack gave a perfunctory nod, turned on his heel and walk away. 

  
  


The good thing about being so close with the kitchen elves, is that they would go the extra mile for Eric. When they heard that Eric had to be at the quidditch pitch at 5:30 in the morning, they made sure to have a hot coffee waiting for him when he awoke at 5 a.m. 

Eric dressed quietly and made his way down to the quidditch pitch. Jack was already there with Adam Birkholtz, who Eric had gathered was called Holster. Eric quickly finished his coffee and set the coffee cup on the ground, and made his way over to them. 

“Morning,” Holster said sleepily. 

“Good morning,” Eric said politely. He’d never stood by Adam before, and as he did he looked up, up,  _ up  _ at him. Holster was nearly a foot taller than he was. How the hell could a broom even support that much person, Eric wondered.

Eric turned to Jack, “I don’t have a broom yet,” he said. “I’ll need to use one of the school brooms until I can order one.”

Jack nodded, “Holster brought you Ransom’s broom to use for this morning.”

Holster handed it over to Eric, who inspected it. The handle said  _ Nimbus 2100X.  _ Eric was muggle-born, he didn’t know if this was a good broom or not. “Thanks,” he said to Holster. 

“Right,” Jack said. “So the thing with bludgers is that you can dodge them sometimes, and you’re a good flyer so you should actually be good at that. But sometimes you  _ need _ to get hit by the bludger, especially to protect your teammate with the quaffle. So we’re going to head up, and I’m going to show you some techniques to avoid the bludgers, different rolls, different grips to move up and down. Then Holster here is going to lob some bludgers at you to practice. If you can handle that, then he’s going to try to hit me with the bludger and you’ll have to fly between us and take the hit. Got it?”

“Well…”

“Good. So when it comes to taking a bludgers, you need to think about where your padding is. We have really good shoulder and upper arm pads,” Jack indicated on his own body, “so that’s the best bet. Always avoid the head. If you think a bludger is coming at your head, duck and try to get your shoulder to take it. Your thighs and rear end are also acceptable, but not lower on your leg, which could break a bone, and certainly not your back.” 

Eric got padded up, and he, Jack, and Holster made their way into the air. When it came to flying technique, Eric was a quick study. He almost effortlessly was able to copy Jack’s technique when it came to rolling out of the way, diving, or rising quickly. And even though Eric panicked his first few times Holster threw a bludger his way, he eventually was at least able to roll while panicking.

“Good,” Jack said, encouragingly. “You have really good form on a broom.”

Eric didn’t tell Jack that in another life, before he’d gotten his Hogwarts letter, before he even knew magic existed, when he was just a normal muggle boy that he’d been a figure skater and having good form was a way of life for him.

Being brave enough to actually take a bludger to his upper arm or his shoulder was another story. “Stop, stop! What the bloody hell are you doing to me?” Eric would screech as Holster lobbed very soft bludgers to him. He was clearly blocked and panicking and Jack finally halted the practice. 

They flew to the ground. “Bittle,” Jack said. “He was barely throwing the bludgers at you, right? You’re a good flyer and you have good instincts for scoring. But if you want to get over this mental block about bludgers, you’ll need to trust me. Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” Eric answered more because he knew that’s what Jack wanted to hear more than because it was the actual truth.

“Good,” Jack nodded. “That’s all for this morning. See you at practice tomorrow evening.”

Eric and Holster watched Jack walk off the pitch, his broom slung over his shoulder. “Thanks for your help,” Eric said. “I’m sure you didn’t want to get up this early.”

Holster laughed a little, “I’m pretty sure no one except Jack Zimmermann ever wants to get up before dawn. But he’s the Captain and I lost the coin toss with Ransom, so.” Holster placed his hands on Eric’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, Bittle. You’ll get it eventually.”

“Is Jack always this intense?” Eric asked. 

Holster laughed. “You haven’t seen anything yet! You know, he has a lot to live up to, what with his parents.”

“His parents?”

Holster turned to Bitty, his face shocked. “You don’t know who Jack Zimmermann’s parents are?”

“Um. Should I?”

Holster stared at Eric momentarily in disbelief, “His parents are Bob Zimmermann and Alicia Zimmermann.” 

Eric looked blank, “I’m muggle born,” he reminded Holster.

“Riiiight. Well, Bob Zimmermann was the best keeper ever for the Kenmare Kestrals. He was also on the 2000 British World Cup team, which wasn’t exactly a great team, but still, it was the  _ National Team _ . Alicia Zimmermann was Captain and chaser for the Holyhead Harpies, the only all-witch quidditch team, from 1998 through 2002 before little Jack was born. Jack is practically the crown-prince of Quidditch and he believes if he is anything less than perfect, the entire world will come crashing down.” 

“Oh my,” Eric said, seeing Jack in a whole new light. 

“He’s a good bloke, though,” Holster said quickly. “He’s just….he spends about ninety percent of his waking hours thinking about quidditch.”

Eric was marginally terrified of Jack, but thinking of him as a son trying to live up to his last name, made him seem more human somehow. Like less of a robot, or whatever the wizarding equivalent to a robot is.

____

“Do you regret it?” Shitty asked Jack later that afternoon. They were in the library, supposedly studying for potions, but Jack was busy sketching quidditch plays on bits of spare parchment and Shitty was staring at Lardo, who was drawing an impressive dragon on a large sheet of parchment. 

“Regret what?” 

“Choosing Bitty for the team?”

“Bitty?” Jack asked. 

Shitty grinned, “Bittle, Bitty. Holster came up with it. It definitely suits him, don’t you think?”

“I guess,” Jack said non-committally. “I don’t regret it. He still can’t take a bludger to save his life, but he works hard.”

“Good flyer,” Shitty said. 

Jack grunted in agreement. “I’m working out some new plays since we’ve got him on board now. Plays that can utilize his speed on a broom.” 

Shitty grabbed the parchment from Jack and gave it a cursory glance before putting it down, “Looks good, Jack,” he said, still staring at Lardo. 

“Why’re you staring at Lardo?” Jack asked, annoyed that Shitty wasn’t paying attention to his quidditch plans. 

Shitty tore his eyes away from her, “What do you mean?” 

“You were watching her,” Jack pointed out. 

“Nah,” Shitty shook his head. “No I wasn’t,” and he pulled in his chair closer to the table and opened his potions book. 

Jack looked momentarily from Shitty to Lardo and back to Shitty again before shaking his head and opening his own potions book. It was N.E.W.T year after all, they probably should study more than they normally did. 


	3. The Owlery, the Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bitty and Shitty bond before the Gryffindor vs. Hufflepuff matchup.

Eric Bittle had always been different. When he was about four years old his parents took him ice skating one wintry afternoon, and he took to it like, well, like a polar bear to ice. He never even wobbled his first time out, and let go of his mother’s hand mere minutes after stepping onto the ice. It was like he’d been born to wear skates. 

His parents signed him up for ice skating lessons, and he became so successful so quickly, that time to play with friends was sacrificed for more ice time. He didn’t have any friends at school, but he managed to get by without too much trouble by keeping his head down and minding his own business. Although he was close with a few of the girls with whom he shared a coach, he’d never had a group of good solid friends.

He didn’t get along well with most other blokes. Actually, he’d never even tried to get along with other blokes, because he was sure they’d figure out he’s gay (something he’d figured out about himself when he was about six) and would tease him mercilessly or beat him up. It was safer to be friends with girls. 

Then came the news on his eleventh birthday that he was a wizard and was going to go to Hogwarts. And Eric wondered if there were gay wizards. He never found out, so he continued to hang out with girls more than boys. And while he liked the girls he’d become friends with, he never felt super close to them - not like he wanted to anyway. Not enough to make Hogwarts feel like home the way the ice rink had. 

He knew the Quidditch team usually sat together in the great hall for meals. He knew this, but even though he was on the team, he wasn’t sure he’d be welcome to sit with them. The lunch after Eric had his first bludger lesson with Jack, he was going to sit with his usual group of fourth and fifth year Gryffindor girls, when Holster stopped him, “Come sit with us, Bitty,” he said. 

Eric glanced at the girls, who nodded encouragingly at him. They all wanted to hook up with either Ransom or Holster, and probably thought having Eric on the team would increase their odds. 

“OK,” Eric said, as he followed Holster to the table. 

The rest of the team was there, Shitty leaning in to talk quietly with Lardo. Holster and Ransom arguing over whether they’d rather find a strange man in their bed or a hundred baby blast-ended skrewts, Jack looking sullenly at his History of Magic book, and Christopher Chow practically bouncing up and down in his seat at excitement over being included.

“Scoot over, Chowder,” Holster ordered. Chow scooted and Eric sat next to him. 

“Chowder?” Eric asked. 

“Chowder,” Ransom nodded. “And you’re Bitty now.”

Bitty smiled. It was a weird feeling, to belong somewhere and be accepted. “Bitty,” he tried out. “Because I’m small?” He began loading his plate up with pasta and grilled vegetables. 

Jack looked up, “You need to eat more protein,” he announced. 

“Er-” Bitty’s eyes widened at Jack’s blunt announcement. 

“Ignore him,” Shitty said. 

Bitty took Shitty’s advice, “How’d you end up with a name like Shitty?”

The five older teammates looked at each other and laughed, “It’s a long story,” Lardo said. 

“Not really. I happened when-” Shitty began, but was quickly cut off. 

“Jack’s the only one without a nickname.” Ransom said. 

“Why?” Chowder asked curiously. 

Jack shrugged, and Chowder and Bitty looked at the others expectantly. “He’s just Jack,” Holster finally answered. 

Ransom nodded, “He’s above nicknames.” 

Bitty glanced at Jack to see if he’d respond, but his face was blank, as he shoveled a bite of chicken into this mouth. 

They ate and chatted for a few minutes when Lardo whispered, “Ugh. Here comes Kent Parson.”

“Fuckin’ Parse,” Shitty groaned. 

Bitty looked up to see Parson, who he knew by face (because who didn’t), come into the great hall with a few other Slytherin friends. Parson was short - not quite as short as Bitty himself, but still on the shorter side. He had blond hair, eyes that seemed green when he wore his Slytherin robes, but kind of grey when he was wearing muggle clothes. Bitty thought he was probably good looking, even if Kent wasn’t really the type he normally found handsome. (Bitty liked tall, muscular brunettes, but he refused to even allow himself think about how Jack Zimmermann looked. Because Jack was his  _ captain _ and that would be stupid and uncomfortable and inappropriate.)

Jack stood up abruptly, “I’m done here,” he announced and hurried out of the Great Hall, leaving half of his food uneaten on his plate. 

Shitty scoffed behind Jack’s back, and Bitty had to wonder what the hell  _ that _ was about. Especially when he noticed Kent Parson watching Jack leave the Great Hall with his trademark smirk on his face. 

____

 

Bitty never would have believed it possible, but he  _ did _ get better at taking bludgers. Beyond the team’s twice-weekly (and occasional weekend) practices, and him and Jack getting together for bludger practice, he actually improved.

It helped that he’d gotten a new broom. He wasn’t sure his parents would send the money, because they were muggles and might not understand quidditch. But Professor Longbottom, the head of Gryffindor House, had written them a letter about the importance of quidditch and how Bitty would need his own broom. Bitty’s dad, who’d never really understood Bitty’s love of figure skating, was pleased that Bitty was choosing a more….well, not figure skating-type sport. So they’d made their way to Diagon Alley to get muggle money exchanged for Galleons to put in his vault. 

It was a surprisingly generous amount, and with Jack and Shitty’s help, Bitty chose the same broom as Ransom’s that he’d ridden in his first bludger practice, A Nimbus 2100X. It was not the best broom on the market (still a Firebolt. Jack used his dad’s old Firebolt, and even at twenty years old, it was still the best broom being ridden at Hogwarts), but it was the absolute best for the money he’d been given. 

With his new broom, he could fly faster and turn quicker. Suddenly, it didn’t matter so much that Bitty was scared, because he could almost always swerve out of the way of an oncoming bludger. 

Bitty discovered that he loved Quidditch. It wasn’t figure skating, which he missed more than he could ever describe, but it was something close. Flying on a broom gave him the same elated feeling as nailing a difficult jump on the ice. Plus, he was good at it, and it gave him a place to belong. 

Even Jack came around. While Bitty had been a little scared, maybe a little in awe, of Jack at the beginning, the longer they were on the same team, the more Bitty understood him. 

Bitty kept a list in his head of things that he knew about Jack. Besides the fact that he was very good looking (and had great abs, something Bitty couldn’t help but notice in the locker room), Bitty had figured out that Jack a-thought about Quidditch approximately 90% of the time, b- was the only student whose favorite subject was History of Magic, c- was obsessed with healthy eating, d- but would eat the homemade cinnamon rolls Bitty made in the Hogwarts kitchens, e- snuck out of the dorms with Shitty a few nights a week to smoke pot, and f- really fucking hated Kent Parson for some reason no one wanted to talk about. 

A couple of nights before Halloween, Bitty was awoken past midnight by Shitty shaking his shoulders, “Bitty,” he whispered. “Bits, wake up.”

“Hmm?” Bitty asked rolling over. He sat up when he saw Shitty standing there, and looked around to make sure he hadn’t woken up any of the other fifth year guys in his dorm room. 

“Come out with me,” Shitty said, holding up a bong. 

“What?” Bitty rubbed his eyes. “I’m sleeping. And I’ve never smoked before.”

Shitty grinned, “First time for everything, right?” When Bitty didn’t answer, Shitty said, “Just come out with me. You don’t have to smoke up.” 

Bitty really wanted to go back to sleep, but he wanted to fit in with his team even more, so he reluctantly got out of bed, pulled his robe on and shoved his feet into his fuzzy bunny slippers. Shitty cocked a grin at the slippers and Bitty shot him a look daring him to make fun of them. 

Together they slipped out of the fifth year dorms and tiptoed down to the common room. “Where’s Jack?” Bitty asked. “Doesn’t he usually go out with you?”

Shitty scoffed, “He abstains in the week leading up to a match. If I asked him to even come out with me, I’d be guaranteed a lecture.” 

“So he’s going to lecture me instead?” 

Shitty shrugged and winked at Bitty, “Only if he finds out.”

Bitty couldn’t help but smile at that, and he followed Shitty out of the common room, and quietly tiptoed behind him all the way to the Owlery. Shitty conjured a blanket and spread it out on the floor littered with pellets and small animal bones.  Bitty watched with interest as Shitty packed the bowl on the bong and lit it with a small flame at the end of his wand. 

After he took a hit, he held his breath and held the bong out to Bitty. Bitty shook his head. Shitty nodded, then after another couple of seconds exhaled heavily, expelling a large amount of pungent smoke from his lungs. “Ahhhh,” Shitty said, smiling a little. 

They were quiet for a few moments, when Shitty spoke. “You nervous for the match next week?”

Bitty shrugged, “Not especially.”

“Yeah?” Shitty asked, surprised. “Your first big match?”

Bitty shrugged again, “I was an athlete before I was a wizard. I competed in front of crowds much bigger than the staff and students of Hogwarts.” 

Shitty put his bong down and looked at Bitty with interest, “Really? What’d you play, footie?”

Bitty scrunched his nose, “No I didn’t play  _ football _ .” Honestly, these pure-bloods thought football was the only muggle sport. “I was a figure skater.” 

“Huh,” Shitty said. “I don’t even know what that is.”

“I know you don’t,” he said quietly. “It’s not a very popular sport, even among muggles.”

“What’s figure skating about?”

Bitty scratched his head, trying to decide how much he wanted to open up. There was a pause, “You know, I don’t really want to talk about it.” Even more than four years later, some things were too painful to talk about, like finding out there was an entire committee devoted to keeping witches and wizards out of the Olympics. 

“Sure,” Shitty said, and Bitty was relieved that he wasn’t pushed further. He decided to change the subject, “So Jack wouldn’t come out with you?” He was always anxious to learn more about Jack.

“Nah,” Shitty said. “He should though. He needs to fuckin’ relax. You may not be nervous for the match, but Jack’s beside himself already.”

“Hm. Well, Hufflepuff isn’t supposed to be very good, are they?”

“No, they’re terrible. There’s so little interest in fielding a team in Hufflepuff that it was difficult for them to find Beaters. Hufflepuffs aren’t natural beaters you know. Their seeker is the only player worth a damn. But, you know, the seeker is the most important player out there.”

“Maybe Jack shouldn’t worry so much,” Bitty said. 

Shitty gave Bitty a significant look as he took another hit on his bong. “That’s a very astute observation, Bits,” he said as he exhaled the smoke, “But telling Jack not to worry is like telling Professor Longbottom to not get a boner over his plants.” 

Bitty laughed a little at this. “What’s Jack’s deal, anyway? Why’s he so intense?” 

“That’s just his personality,” Shitty shrugged. “It’s the family name, it’s being-” he stopped suddenly.

“Being what?”

“Nothing,” Shitty said quickly. “It’s being a Zimmermann.”

Bitty could tell that wasn’t what Shitty was going to say, but he decided not to push it any further. He and Shitty sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, while Shitty pulled one more hit off the bong. “It’s just about kicked,” he said. “You sure you don’t want a hit?”

“Maybe some other time,” Bitty said. 

“Sure,” Shitty agreed easily. “Hey, are you OK? I kind of got this feeling that you keep baking us treats to get us to like you, but you don’t need to. We like you already.”

Bitty felt a flood of warmth run through his body. He was almost embarrassed for himself, how pleased he was to hear that, and with the realization that he’d never been able to take being liked by his peers for granted. 

“I like to bake,” he explained. “I’d do it anyway, now you guys are getting the results.”

“Well, we appreciate it,” Shitty assure him. “Just wanted to make sure you know that we’ll like you no matter what.” 

There was a long pause, before Bitty opened up. “Would you like me even if I’m gay?” he found himself asking Shitty.

"Are you?"

"Yes," Bitty answered. 

“Oh yeah?” Shitty raised his eyebrows. “That’s cool.”

“I haven’t really told anyone before,” Bitty explained, suddenly unsure that he’d done the right thing.

“It’s really awesome you trusted me with this information. Must be something in me, though, because you aren’t the first person to come out to me.”

“Who else has?” Bitty asked, curiously. 

Shitty shook his head, “Just like I’m not going to tell anyone else that you’re gay, I’m not telling you who else is.” 

“This doesn’t change anything?”

“Mate,” Shitty said, and pulled Bitty into a hug and dropped a kiss on the top of his head. “Of course fucking not.”

Bitty felt lighter, happier, than he had in awhile as he and Shitty descended from the owlery back to the Gryffindor common room. 

“Night, Bits,” Shitty said as he headed to the seventh year dorms. 

“Night,” Bitty called as he went his way. 

_________   
  


Bitty knew what to expect the following weekend as the first Quidditch match drew near. He’d been at Hogwarts more than four years, after all, and he’d gone to all the matches and cheered for Gryffindor. 

So he wasn’t surprised that Jack had sequestered the team to their own corner of the table in the Great Hall, but he was surprised that Jack stood over him, monitoring what he ate. “Not the cinnamon roll,” he barked. “You’ll have a sugar crash. Eat some eggs and porridge.”

Bitty really wanted the cinnamon rolls, he’d helped prep them in the kitchen the night before when he couldn’t sleep. But instead of arguing with Jack, he obediently scooped some porridge into a bowl, then got a plate with some eggs and bacon. He ate while Jack went over plays and talked about what Hufflepuff’s strengths and weaknesses were. You would have thought they were playing in the Quidditch World Cup, the way Jack went on about it. 

The team changed into their robes before heading out to the field to loud cheers. Most of the people in the stands, because they loved an underdog, were rooting for Hufflepuff. But not too hard, because everyone was also in awe of having Jack Zimmermann at their school and getting to see Bob Zimmermann’s son on the pitch, so they were rooting for Jack to have a good game. 

A good game? Jack had a _great_ game. Gryffindor had an amazing game, one of the fastest in recent Hogwarts Quidditch history. Chowder, who was bouncy and bubbly off the pitch was intense and domineering at his post, let only one goal in, while the Jack, Shitty, and Bitty managed to combine for ten goals (five by Jack, three by Bitty, two by Shitty) in ten minutes before Lardo caught the snitch. Bitty was initially a little embarrassed for Hufflepuff, but they took their loss in stride. 

After the snitch was caught, they flew to the ground and hugged each other happily. Jack ruffled Bitty’s hair and pulled him close. “You did awesome!” 

Bitty felt warm, happy to be in Jack’s embrace, and hugged him back. “Me? You got five goals!”

Jack pulled back but kept his hands on Bitty’s shoulders and looked in his eyes. Bitty had never seen Jack’s blue eyes so lively. Jack smiled, a true smile that reached his eyes, “I wasn’t able to score a single goal in my first game. You did better than I did my first year on the team.” Jack had only been in his second year when he started for the Gryffindor team, but no reason to mention that to Bitty. 

It was a moment Bitty wanted to hold on to, but was ruined by Shitty crashing into them, “You guys were bloody fucking amazing!” Shitty pulled both of them in by their necks to his side, as Lardo, Chowder, Ransom and Holster edged in around them for a group hug. 

They changed in the locker room quickly, and headed back up to the common room, where Shitty promised them there would be an all-day party. Sure enough, the elves brought drinks and snacks. Music was playing on the wireless, and Shitty had managed to procure from  _ somewhere _ butterbeer and several bottles of elderflower wine. Bottles that Professor Longbottom took great pains to ignore when he came in briefly to congratulate them and to remind them to keep it down and finish up the party before lights out, then told Shitty and Jack that he was holding them responsible, and if anyone younger than a fifth year had anything to drink, he’d see to it that the entire quidditch team would be suspended. Fourth-year Chowder hid his drink behind his back.

“I helped make that,” Eric said, pointing to the treacle tart Jack was helping himself to about a half hour later. 

“Did you? It tastes different than it did last year.”

“Good or bad?”

“Good,” Jack said forcefully. “This is the best treacle tart I’ve ever had and I grew up in a house with house elves known for their cooking prowess.”

Bitty blushed a little, “The, uh, the kitchen elves switched to my recipe this year.”

Jack grinned, “What else can you make?” He held Bitty’s gaze.

If Bitty didn’t know any better, he’d think Jack was flirting with him. But Bitty was pretty sure that Jack was physically incapable of flirting, and he was absolutely positive about Jack being straight. Still, Bitty put on his brightest smile, and took a step closer to Jack so his arm brushed against Jack’s. “Oh, I can bake anything I put my mind to. Whether or not you’ll think it’s appropriate for someone in quidditch training is another thing entirely.”

Jack laughed, actually laughed out loud at that. He and Bitty were standing arm to arm, and Jack didn’t pull away, but lifted his hand to tousle Bitty’s blond hair. “Well, I might change my mind if everything you make is as good as this tart.” 

Bitty felt his face heat up as he watched Jack pick up his glass of wine and drain it in one gulp. Of course, Jack wasn’t actually flirting, he was drunk. Bitty’d never been drunk before, but he went over and poured himself a glass of the elderflower wine and sat down on one of the sofas in front of the fireplace, and drank contemplatively. Thinking about Jack, and how Jack would never return his feelings. He started to feel sorry for himself, something he normally never allowed himself to do. 

After a couple of glasses of wine, Bitty felt slightly buzzed, and Shitty came and sat next to him. “What’s wrong, Bits?” he asked. 

Bitty lay his head on Shitty’s shoulder, “Nothing,” He answered. “Just thinking.”

“Aw,” Shitty patted his head in comfort. “Whatever it is, it’ll be all right in the end.”

The wine was making Bitty maudlin, because he was pretty sure Shitty was wrong. He was destined to be alone forever. 

Maybe he shouldn’t drink anymore. 

Or maybe he should just try to get over this stupid crush on his Captain.


	4. The Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bitty needs a date to the Yule Ball.

Slowly but surely, Bitty got better with bludgers. Would he ever be completely comfortable with a well-hit bludger hurtling toward his head? No. But with a patient Jack helping him a couple mornings a week, Bitty could get through practice without panicking about bludgers.

“This is good,” Jack told him one morning. “Ravenclaw has much better beaters than Hufflepuff. You’ll need to be more on your toes when we play them, but I think we can stop meeting early in the mornings for extra practice.”

“Oh,” Bitty said, surprised by the announcement, but also surprised by how disappointed he was at no longer meeting with Jack one on one. (Both Ransom and Holster flatly refused to get up at dark o’clock anymore to help them out.)

“Yeah,” Jack shifted a little, then glanced away from Bitty, not making eye contact. “Unless you want to keep meeting. Maybe work on flying, or whatever. But, er, we don’t really need to focus on the bludgers anymore.”

“Flying?"

“It’s all right if you don’t want,” Jack said quickly. “I know it’s early in the morning. I just - we’re both fast flyers but everyone could be faster and if we worked on it, we could really, you know, blow people’s minds or whatever.”

Bitty had never heard Jack stammer so much, and if he was reading Jack right, it sounded like maybe, just maybe, Jack actually _wanted_ to continue practicing one-on-one with him.

“Yes,” Bitty said quickly. “If you don’t mind waking up that early, I could still meet you for flying practice.”

“Brilliant,” Jack said as they began walking back up to the castle. “We’ll meet again Thursday morning then, right?”

“Sure,” Bitty tried to sound casual, and he smiled to himself as he hoisted his broom over his shoulder and followed Jack up the hill.

Being friends with Jack was nice, and most days Bitty was able to suppress his crush. There were these stupid moments - running into Jack wearing nothing but boxers coming out of the boys’ bathroom after a shower, seeing Jack fall asleep stretched out on one of the couches in the common room - where Bitty would be reminded that he wanted nothing more than to run his hands over that body, to kiss those lips. But he knew he couldn’t, he knew he was infatuated with a straight guy, and so he’d go have a wank and try to forget about it.

Because he’d never do anything to compromise the new friendships he’d made. Particularly with Jack, who seemed close to Shitty but not necessarily to anyone else on the team. They were friends, sure, but Bitty couldn’t imagine Jack hanging out in the owlery and smoking pot with Ransom, Holster or Lardo the way he did with Shitty. Shitty had a way of bringing out the more human side, the side that wasn’t obsessed with Quidditch, in Jack.

Slowly, Bitty realized that he, too, was in Jack’s orbit. Jack slowly began to talk to Bitty about things other than Quidditch. He’d ask about how studying or O.W.Ls was going, and commisserate about his own upcoming N.E.W.Ts. Jack would specifically drop hints about what his favorite things were that Bitty baked, knowing it would be done by the next day.

Jack was his friend, possibly his best friend at Hogwarts. Though as close as he was to Jack, it was Shitty that Bitty felt like he could say anything to.

As November drew near, Slytherin destroyed Ravenclaw in their quidditch game, making it obvious to everyone that the Quidditch Cup would most likely come down to the final game of the season, Gryffindor vs. Slytherin in late May.

Headmistress McGonagall also announced that there would be a Yule Ball on December 22nd. The Yule Ball was a dance held every other year open to fourth years and above. It was held the night before students returned home (for those that were returning home) for the winter break.

“We need to find dates for our two new guys!” Ransom announced, high-fiving Holster in the process.

“I already have a date,” Chowder said, smiling widely.

“Little Baby Chowder has a date to the Yule Ball already and I don’t?” Holster cackled.

“Yeah, me and Caitlin Farmer have been together for months.”

“Since when?”

“Since the beginning of the school year,” Chowder pointed out.

Bitty laughed, “Even I knew that, Holster.”

“He never told us!”

“But they hang out, like all the time. They were snogging on the couch just last night.”

Chowder’s face reddened, “I thought you knew.”

“Huh,” Holster said. He turned to Bitty, “Well I guess we need to find you someone. What’s your type? Ransom and I are quite familiar with many of the ladies of Hogwarts if you know what I mean.”

“He means sexually,” Ransom added as though everyone hadn’t caught on to Holster’s meaning.

Shitty coughed and Jack scowled. Bitty took a large bite of his breakfast muffin, swallowed it then stood up, “I forgot some homework in the library then I’m meeting the house elves in the kitchens for, er, baking things, and er, you know I have classes, so I’d better go,” he said quickly as he ran out of the great hall.

The others watched him go, “Rude,” Ransom said.

“Idiots,” Shitty murmured.   


 

Bitty managed to avoid his teammates for much of the rest of the day. They had Quidditch practice in the evening, but Bitty got there two minutes late, earning a frown from Jack. Then as soon as practice was over, he ran but up to the castle ahead of them, choosing to shower in the boys’ dormitory bathroom rather than in the locker room.

He was settling down in a chair in the corner with his astronomy homework when Ransom and Holster cornered him, “We never finished talking about who to set you up with for the Yule Ball,” Holster said.

Bitty looked around, eyes wide, trying to find a way to escape. But Ransom and Holster were much bigger than he was and had managed to corner him in. The knelt in front of the overstuffed chair BItty was sitting in. “So,” Ransom began, “Let’s talk.”

“About what?” Bitty voice cracked.

“The Yule Ball,” Ransom said, rolling his eyes.

“Who’re you guys going with?” Bitty challenged.

“We’re going with the Nakamura twins,” Holster looked like the cat who swallowed the canary.

“The prettiest lasses in the whole school.” He held his hand up, and Ransom slapped him five. “They have friends who are nearly as fit as they are. Quidditch bunnies.”

“No,” Bitty shook his head. “Guys, I can do this myself. I don’t need help.”

“See, we think you do,” Ransom explained. “You used to hang out with that group of fourth-year girls all the time. They’d love to go with you. But have you done anything to ask any of them? No, you have not.”

“You see,” Holster added. “We know people. Like _know_ them. We are really good at reading people and knowing what they want. So we should be able to figure out which girls are interested in you, and we can maximize your chances of getting your face snogged off after the ball.”

“You’re not that good at reading people,” Bitty mumbled.

“What’s that mean?”

“What do you think I want? What do you think my type for the ball is?”

Ransom grinned, “Pretty, obviously. A little extroverted because you’re an introvert, and you need that push to be more outgoing, but not _so_ extroverted that you can’t get along. A girl who doesn’t waste her time worrying about her weight so she can eat your goodies. And she has to like Quidditch.”

“Obviously,” Holster added.

“That’s your type, right?” Ransom asked.

“Not even close.”

“Bullshit,” Holster said laughing. “Then what is your type?”

Bitty stood up so suddenly Ransom and Holster had to take a step back. He gathered his astronomy work and slung his backpack over his shoulder, “Guys” he answered, stalking up to the fifth year boys dormitory.

Bitty flopped down on his bed and stared at the ceiling for a few minutes when the door opened and Ransom and Holster came in. The sat on the end of Bitty’s bed and waited for him to say something. When he didn’t say anything, Ransom spoke up, “So when you said ‘guys,’ you were answering our question, right?”

“Yeah,” Bitty nodded.

Ransom and Holster grinned at each other, before pouncing on Bitty. “Why didn’t you say anything before?!”

“What? Because I’m not out!” Bitty explained, exasperated.

“Mate,” Holster said, “Don’t worry. We know someone.”

“What do you mean, you know someone?”

“There’s only one out dude at Hogwarts. Next weekend is a Hogsmeade weekend, and we’re going to set you up,” Ransom explained.

“Who’s out?” Bitty wanted to know, sitting up.

“Jasper Leon,” Ransom said. “Sixth year Ravenclaw.”

“Huh,” Bitty said. “I don’t know him.”

“Ransom’s friends with him,” Holster said, indicating Ransom with his thumb, “You know, he shoulda been a Ravenclaw, so he’s weirdly friendly with all the Ravenclaw kids because they’re all at the tops of their classes with him.”

Bitty, who always thought he’d probably make a better Hufflepuff than Gryffindor, said, “OK. Set me up then.”

“Really?”

“I can’t promise I’m going to the Yule Ball with him,” Bitty said. “But at least meeting up with one out person here might make me feel less….lonely.”

“Aww,” Holster wrapped his arm around Bitty’s neck and hugged him tightly. “Just ‘cause we’re not into blokes doesn’t mean you need to be lonely, right mate? No more secrets like that.”

“Sure,” Bitty agreed. And he wondered why it had taken him this long to come out to anyone.   
  


Ransom had given Bitty instructions to meet Jasper at the Three Broomsticks at exactly noon the next Saturday. Bitty was nervous. Ransom had pointed Jasper out to him in the Great Hall, and they’d shared a wave, but they hadn’t had a chance to speak yet.

Bitty got to the Three Broomsticks five minutes early and looked around. Jasper was already there, sitting at a small table in the corner. He didn’t notice Bitty at first, so Bitty took a moment to look over him. Jasper was handsome, on the tallish side, and dark skinned with dark framed glasses. His height seemed a little greater by the fact that his hair was natural and added an inch or two to him.

Jasper looked up and saw Bitty at the door and waved him over. He stood as Bitty got to the table and pulled his seat out. Bitty had to admit, the good manners made him swoon a little.

“Hi, Eric,” Jasper said, holding his hand out. “Nice to meet you.”

“Hi,” Bitty said as he settled into his seat. They were tucked into a cozy corner. “Nice to meet you too.”

“I ordered us a couple of butterbeers before you got here, is that all right?”

“Perfect,” Bitty answered. “Butterbeer is my favorite. Basically the best part of discovering I was a wizard.”

Jasper laughed, “You’re muggleborn then?”

Bitty nodded, “You?”

“Half,” Jasper answered. “Mum’s a witch, a healer. Dad’s a scientist, hell bent on discovering a physiological explanation for magic.”

Bitty laughed, “That sounds interesting.”

“It can be,” Jasper agreed.

They talked about their families a little longer. Jasper was an attentive listener. He nodded thoughtfully in all the right places when Bitty would talk about his parents. He asked questions that indicated that he was actually interested in what Bitty had to say. “You think the macho culture in football is what’s keeping you in the closet?” Jasper asked after Bitty mentioned his dad was a league football coach.

“Maybe,” Bitty answered. “How’d you know I’m closeted?”

“Sorry,” Jasper said, ducking his head. “I wasn’t assuming, I pestered Justin for details about you and he mentioned you’d only just come out to him and Adam.”

“Yeah,” Bitty said. “You may be the Ravenclaw, but you’ve been a lot braver than I have about being out.”

Jasper shrugged, “Maybe being out isn’t about bravery. Maybe it’s about something else all together. Anyway, I loathe the house system we have at Hogwarts. I think separating students at only eleven years old based on very small parts of one’s personality is divisive and unnecessary. Honestly, they should just have us grouped by year. I wrote a manifesto about it the summer between fourth and fifth year and presented it to Professor McGonagall.”

Eric burst out laughing. Because writing a manifesto about the sorting was _such_ a Ravenclaw thing to do, and it was obvious Jasper had been sorted correctly. Bitty asked, “How did she take it?”

Jasper laughed a little, “She said, ‘I’ll take it under advisement.’ And I haven’t heard anything about it since.”

They ordered some lunch, and Bitty asked, “So is anyone else at Hogwarts out?”

“No one else is out, but there _are_ other gay students,” Jasper assured him.

Bitty looked around, making sure no one could overhear, “Like who?”

Jasper gave him a raised eyebrow. “Eric, I’m not going to out you to anyone and I’m certainly not going to out them to you.”

“Right,” Bitty agreed. It was obvious now that Jasper had said it, that he shouldn’t do that. “But you know others?”

Jasper nodded, “Yes,” he answered. “There was a guy last year I was…” he drifted off, and stammered “Well, we snogged a bit. But I found out that he had a boyfriend he was cheating on with me. I never found out who his boyfriend was, but still that means there are at least four of us here. And I don’t even know about the girls, but statistically there would have to be a few lesbians, right?”

Bitty was, honestly, a little bit surprised. He’d known he was gay for a long time, but so much of his energy had been focused on remaining in the closet and trying to not make his crush on Jack Zimmermann so obvious, that he hadn’t stopped to consider actually snogging anyone. Not that he was naive, he knew the other students made out and both Ransom and Holster were sexually active. But he’d never thought about _him_ getting a chance for anything like that while at Hogwarts. (If he’d stayed in figure skating, maybe.)

Bitty and Jasper talked more as they ate. Bitty liked him. He asked interesting questions and had a way of staring intently when listening to the answer. It could be a little startling at first, but once he got used to it, Bitty found that he enjoyed it quite a bit.

After lunch at the Three Broomsticks, they bundled up and walked out toward the Shrieking Shack. “It’s not really haunted, of course,” Jasper said. “I’ve peeked inside and the damage in there is nothing like the what the school ghosts can do. Also, reports of any actual shrieking have completely stopped since the Battle of Hogwarts back in 1998.”

“I wonder what it was,” Bitty wondered, peeking in a window.

“Probably an animal. That and people’s ability to believe whatever they’re told. You hear a shack is haunted, you’re likely to hear things around it.”

“We know ghosts are real,” Bitty pointed out. “Poltergeists too. What makes you think this haunting is an impossibility?”

“I’ve thought a lot about it,” Jasper said. “We know ghosts can’t make this damage. I got Peeves to answer some questions about poltergeists, and he agreed that poltergeists like attention way too much to do something like haunt and empty shack. He’s actually the one who told me it was a creature and that there hasn’t been any noise since the Battle.”  Jasper frowned, “That one actually made him laugh a little, so I think he knows what happened, but he wasn’t telling me.”

“Very inquisitive,” Bitty said.

Jasper shrugged, “Curiosity.”

“Still,” Bitty stuck his hands in his jacket pocket and rocked a little on his feet. “It’s getting late and I wanted to pick up some candy at Honeydukes. So maybe we should head back?”

“Sure,” Jasper said, but stopped Bitty from heading down the path and held onto his hand loosely. “Listen. I had a good time today. Are you interested in going to the Yule Ball with me?”

“Er-” Bitty hesitated.

“I get it. We can go separately and just hang out while we’re there. You don’t have to dance with me if you’re not ready to be out.”

“All right,” Bitty agreed. “Let’s do that.”

Jasper smiled, “Great.”

All of a sudden, Bitty realized he was about to get his first kiss. Jasper leaned in and touched his lips softly to Bitty’s. As Bitty kissed back, Jasper wrapped his arms around Bitty’s waist and pulled him closer. Bitty opened his mouth just a little and Jasper used that opportunity to deepen the kiss and slide his tongue in.

They kissed for several minutes, Bitty trying his hardest not to pretend he was actually kissing Jack, before Jasper pulled back. “That was nice,” he smiled at Bitty.

“Yeah,” Bitty agreed.

They held hands on their way back to the village, but let go once they were surrounded by more people. Bitty loved that Jasper wasn’t pushing him and respected his need to be closeted a little longer.

They went to Honeydukes, talking and laughing and buying much more candy than was technically healthy. But Bitty knew he’d end up giving most of it to Shitty when he got high. As they neared the castle, they agreed to meet up in the Great Hall after dinner the next night.

  
Bitty smiled to himself as he climbed the stairs to Gryffindor Tower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For whatever reason, I'm picturing Echo Kellum as Jasper in my head. He plays Curtis on Arrow and he's freaking adorable. 
> 
> Also, I have all these ideas about which Hogwarts Houses the characters would be placed in, but I'm super tired at the moment, so I'll probably get into it in the notes of the next chapter.


	5. The Fight

Ransom and Holster pounced on Bitty first thing at breakfast the next morning. “So,” Ransom said quietly, “How’d it go?”

“It was fine,” Bitty said. 

“Just fine?” Holster asked indignantly.

“It was nice,” Bitty corrected. “We ate lunch at the Three Broomsticks, went to the Shrieking Shack and talked about whether it was haunted, then went to Honeydukes.”

“Did you snog him?” 

Bitty blushed to the tips of his ears. “You did!” Holster crowed. 

“Did what?” Shitty asked, as he and Jack sat down across the table from Bitty.

“Did nothing,” Bitty murmured. “Who are you taking to the Yule Ball?” he asked, hoping to change the subject. 

“Lardo,” Shitty answered confidently. 

“Does she know that?” Jack asked. “She told me yesterday no one had asked her.”

“Oh, right,” Shitty nodded, stroking the moustache he was working hard to grow. “Oi! Lardo,” he called down the table, where Lardo was eating with a few other girls. “Want to go to the Yule Ball with me?”

Lardo eyed Shitty coolly, before nodding and saying, “Yeah, all right.”

Shitty turned to the rest of them. “And that’s how it’s done.”

“How about you, Jack?” Ransom asked. “Holster and I know loads of girls who’d like to go with you.”

“Er - no thanks. I’ve got it under control.” 

“Who?” Holster asked suspiciously. 

Jack shrugged. “Dunno yet. Camilla, maybe. We have some classes together and we both play quidditch.” 

“Well, it sounds like you’re rather fond of her,” Ransom said sarcastically. “You have some of the same classes and you both play quidditch. If that’s all you need to find a date, you could have asked any one of us on the team.”

For whatever reason, this made Jack choke on his pumpkin juice. “You’re not my type,” he said wryly to Ransom once he’d stopped coughing. 

This made everyone else laugh as they finished their breakfast and headed off to class. Bitty was grateful at least that Ransom and Holster, while overly interested in his love life, seemed able to keep his secret.

_______

A couple days later, Bitty walked into the Great Hall for lunch and saw Kent Parson and Jack having what looked like a heated conversation at the Gryffindor table. Shitty was standing next to Jack, making a face that was angrier than Bitty had ever seen him make. Bitty paused, wondering if he should sneak out before anyone noticed him, but curiosity got the better of him and he quietly stalked over. 

After Jack looked beyond Kent’s shoulders and his face softened to see Bitty coming, Kent turned and smirked at him. “You did a bang up job replacing Wells, Jack. You’ve got this kid, who’s about half the size of Sam Wells.” 

This stung, because Bitty knew he was the smallest on the team, save for Lardo who actually was only a couple inches shorter than him. But he thought of his size as an advantage, he could fly quicker, manage more tricks on the broom, even if he didn’t have the upper-body strength to score a goal from too far from the keeper. 

Shitty scoffed, “Yeah, you’re a real giant yourself, Parson.” 

“Compared to this one I am,” Kent sneered. It was true, Kent was somewhat shorter than average, but not by much. Whereas Bitty’s size made him stand out on the team. “And I’m a seeker, I’m not supposed to be a giant lumbering ox like Jack, or like your beaters.” He looked at Bitty, “No offense, mate. But you look way too frail to be a proper chaser.” 

“I’m not your mate,” Bitty said, through clenched teeth, at the same time Jack said, “His hat trick against Hufflepuff says he’s fine.” 

Kent rolled his eyes, “Right. A hat trick against Hufflepuff. Who’s their keeper? Solomon? He’s made of air, how many quaffles get by him.” (“Oi!” shouted Solomon, who’d happened to be nearby) “A hat trick against that is nothing to brag about.” 

“Interesting that we beat Hufflepuff by more than you managed against Ravenclaw and in less time too.”

Kent snorted, “Don’t even compare Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. Everyone knows Hufflepuff aren’t even going to manage fifty points all year.”

“We’re right fucking here!” shouted one Hufflepuff.

“Daddy’s going to be so disappointed that you won’t even beat Ravenclaw with this little girl, here,” Kent pointed to Bitty. 

At once, Shitty and Jack both lunged at Kent. “You fucker!” Shitty growled as his fist connected with Kent’s face, just before Jack tackled him to the ground. Jack and Kent were grappling, each trying to get the upper hand, when Kent quickly kicked his leg in the air and connected right into Shitty’s balls. “You twat!” Shitty groaned as he knelt to the ground holding his crotch. 

All this happened in mere seconds before Professors Longbottom and Slughorn came racing over. Longbottom grabbed Jack by the back of his collar and, with muscles that came from constant laboring in the greenhouse, easily pulled him off Kent. Slughorn, red faced, breathing hard, and a few paces slower than Longbottom, knelt down and helped Kent back to a standing position. 

“Quidditch is a privilege,” Longbottom said evenly, glaring at Jack, Shitty, Bitty, and Kent. “One that can be taken away quite easily.” 

“What’s all this about?” Slughorn asked. 

No one said anything. 

“Fine,” Longbottom said. “Ten points from Slytherin, Twenty from Gryffindor.”

“What?” Jack and Shitty shouted together. “Why more for us?”

Kent smirked as Longbottom answered, “Two of you against one. Really. And it could have been three if Mr. Bittle had joined in.” 

Kent scoffed in Bitty’s direction, “Look at him, he’s only like half a person anyway.” 

“Five more from Slytherin then,” Longbottom said and Kent scowled, but wisely kept his mouth shut. 

“And detentions, I think,” Slughorn added. 

“Agreed,” Longbottom nodded. “A week’s each for the three of you, starting next Monday. You’ll get an owl with the details about who you’ll be serving with.” 

Slughorn led Kent away from them, and Longbottom waited until they were gone before turning on his three Gryffindor charges. “Do not let me see you behaving like that again,” he warned. “I know there is tension between our houses, right? But do not let it get the best of you. You just did exactly what Mr. Parson wanted you to. And honestly, since when do Gryffindors think two on one is fair?”

Jack and Shitty managed to, at the very least, look somewhat ashamed. 

“Mr. Bittle,” Longbottom turned to Bitty. “Come with me, I need to speak to you.” 

Bitty looked at Jack and Shitty, eyes widened and shrugged. He didn’t know what Longbottom wanted. He followed the Professor out of the Great Hall, and into the main entrance, where Longbottom pulled him into an empty classroom. 

Longbottom began pacing, “Look.” He seemed nervous. “I wasn’t going to say anything to you, but I need to make sure this isn’t what the fight was about.” 

“What?”

“Last weekend I went off the beaten path in Hogsmeade. There are some wild-growing plants that I wanted to harvest. I was near the Shrieking Shack and-” he broke off.

“Oh,” Bitty felt himself blush. 

“I saw you and Mr. Leon.”

“Right. I’m sorry.”

Longbottom held his hand up, “No, no. You don’t need to apologize. You’re not in any trouble. I just wanted to make sure Mr. Parson wasn’t...that you being gay wasn’t what the fight was about. He wasn’t calling you names or-”

“Oh, no,” Bitty said quickly. Kent  _ had _ called him a girl, but Bitty was sure that was more about his size rather than him being gay. Also, if Lardo had been there, Kent definitely would be seeing Madame Pomfrey for using ‘girl’ as an insult because Lardo would have hexed him ten ways from Sunday.  “He was just being, well. He was just being Kent.”

Longbottom studied Bitty’s face for a few moments before nodding. “All right,” he agreed. “Please let me know if he ever-”

“He’ll never even find out I’m gay,” Bitty said quickly. “It’s not public knowledge.” 

“Right,” Longbottom nodded. “In that case, you might want to have a better look around before you and Mr. Leon go kissing again.” 

Bitty blushed again, “Sure,” he mumbled. He liked Professor Longbottom, his favorite professor by far at Hogwarts, and one he’d harbored a small crush on. With any other Professor, Bitty would have been humiliated to have been called out on snogging Jasper. But Longbottom hadn’t made him feel like he’d done anything wrong.    
  
  


“What’d he want?” Shitty demanded later that afternoon when Bitty got back to the Gryffindor Common room after his last class. Jack looked up interestedly. 

“Who? Longbottom?” Bitty plopped down on the couch next to Shitty. 

“Yes,” Shitty said. 

“Nothing,” Bitty said. “It was about classwork.” 

“Oh,” Shitty looked disappointed. 

“How’d that things with Kent start anyway?” Bitty asked. 

Shitty scoffed, “Kent started it. Of course. Nothing he hasn’t done before, you know. Bragging about how good the quidditch cup looks in the Slytherin Common Room. I swear to Morgana, we’re going to win that back this year.”

“Damn right we are,” Jack said forcefully. “I was thinking, it’s actually good Kent was teasing Bittle about his size. It means he’s underestimating him.”

Shitty nodding, stroking the near-moustache thoughtfully. “That’s a good point, Zims.” 

Jack eyes met Bitty’s. “I hope you’re ready to work your ass off. You need to have a good game against Ravenclaw in January, but you need to be ready to be fucking  _ amazing _ against Slytherin in May.”

“I’ll be ready,” Bitty said with a little more confidence than he felt. 

“Great,” Jack said with a firm nod of his head. “I’m going to work up some plays that can take advantage of your speed.” He grabbed some parchment and headed to a table in the corner to begin working on it. 

Shitty raised an eyebrow to Bitty. “What have you done to Jack?” 

“What do you mean?”

“You’re a faster flyer than he is. Last year that would have killed him to acknowledge and he would have worked overtime to build up his own speed. This year, he’s fine with being the second-fastest flyer on the team and wants to build plays around  _ you. _ ”

Bitty shrugged, “ _ I _ didn’t do anything to him. Maybe he’s just being more mature.”

“God, I hope not,” Shitty said. 

Bitty laughed. “Well, maybe beating Slytherin is more important than him being the best.”

“Sure, Bits,” Shitty said in a voice that sounded like he was humoring him, like he knew what Jack's deal really was. “I’m sure that’s it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know really why I chose to have the guys in Gryffindor, I guess just because it's the house we canonically know the most about. In reality, this is how I'd sort the characters:
> 
> Jack: Slytherin. This dude is ALL ambition.
> 
> Bitty: Probably the only true Gryffindor. He's a Gryffindor in the same was Neville Longbottom was a Gryffindor - at first glance Hufflepuff seems to be a better house, but in the end he'll cut the head off the proverbial snake. 
> 
> Ransom & Holster: Both Ravenclaws. Especially Ransom - but I can't stomach the idea of these two being in separate houses, and it's not like Holster is a dum-dum. 
> 
> Shitty: Hufflepuff. Loyal to the very core and concerned about fairness. 
> 
> Lardo: Hufflepuff. Same reasons as Shitty, but maybe a little less to the extreme. 
> 
> Kent: I go back and forth between Slytherin and Gryffindor with him, with a slight edge to Slytherin. 
> 
> Chowder: Pure sweet Hufflepuff. 
> 
> Dex & Nursey: Honestly, this one has me stumped. Let me know in the comments what you think. 
> 
>  
> 
> You can follow me on Tumblr: my-random-fandoms , where my two most common fandom postings are about Harry Potter and Check, Please!


	6. The Yule Ball

Jack and Bitty continued to work on their speed two mornings a week. Bitty hated rising early, but he had to admit, he loved bundling up and bracing the icy air to race around the pitch with Jack. It reminded him of early morning rink time when he was little. When it was just him and his coach with his mom watching from the sidelines. 

It was cold even for December that year, but Jack pointed out that their games wouldn’t be canceled because of weather, so he wasn’t going to cancel practice. Bitty, wanting to prove he could be someone the team relied on, was careful to never complain about the increasing frigidity, even when Ransom and Holster did. 

It became a routine for Jack and Bitty to get to the pitch at 5:30 two mornings a week. Jack brought coffee in a jug that was enchanted to keep it warm, and Bitty would bring cinnamon rolls that he’d helped the house elves bake the night before. They’d fly for about an hour, then eat their cinnamon rolls and drink their coffee together on the bleachers before heading back up to the castle for the day.

Jack was different on these mornings. His furrowed brows replaced by grins and twinkling eyes. His quietness and introversion replaced by a guy who loved to ask Bitty questions about his life, but usually deflecting questions about his own. His normally reserved manner grew animated as he’d use wild hand gestures to describe past Quidditch games. 

And Bitty’s crush only grew. Sure, he’d agreed to go to the Yule Ball with Jasper. And yes, he and Jasper would sometimes sneak off into an empty classroom after supper and make out. And Bitty  _ did _ like Jasper, who was one of the smartest people Bitty’d ever met, but wasn’t at all arrogant about it. Jasper loved when he actually  _ didn’t _ know something because he loved to learn about it. Bitty taught him all about the different jumps in figure skating, something Jasper knew a little bit about because they did have a television set in his house and he’d seen the Olympics. 

As much fun as Bitty was having with Jasper, he absolutely coveted the two mornings a week with Jack even more. A ball of guilt grew in his stomach, because maybe he should tell Jasper that he had a crush on a straight boy, but also, guilty that he should tell Jack he’s gay. 

But he kept quiet on both fronts.

______

 

The Yule Ball was only two days away. Ransom and Holster insisted that they inspect the outfits that the rest of the guys on the team were going to wear. (When they asked Lardo what she was wearing, she’d replied, “None of your fucking beeswax.”) 

“This is really unnecessary,” Jack pointed out as Holster looked closely at the stitching on Jack’s dress robes. 

“Tut, tut,” Holster admonished. “We want you to look the best for Camilla. Simply looking good is halfway to getting laid.” 

Jack rolled his eyes, “Camilla and I are just friends.” 

“That could change, mate,” Ransom said, patting Jack on the shoulder. “Holster and I are the team experts in getting laid, and you’d do well to listen to us.”

“I do fine on my own,” Jack insisted. 

Ransom and Holster broke into peals of laughter. “Oh, Jack. No you don’t.” They both shook their heads sadly. 

Jack made a face at them as he snatched his dress robes back and stalked away. It was stupid for them to be inspecting his robes anyway. He was a Zimmermann, they were the best robes money could buy.

“You’re next, Bitty,” Ransom said. 

“I don’t have dress robes,” Bitty said. “My mum sent me my muggle suit and that’s what I’m wearing. It’s grey with a light blue shirt and red bow tie.”

“I don’t know,” Ransom seemed unsure. “I’m not sure how sexy a bow tie is. I don’t think it’s going to get you laid.”  

“I’m not out to get laid.” 

“I bet Jasper is DTF,” Holster pointed out.

“Hush,” Bitty said quickly, because Jack had come back up to them and had overheard what Holster said.

“You mean Jasper Leon?” Jack asked. “What’s DTF?” 

“Er-” Holster looked at Bitty, his eyes wide with an unspoken apology. “Jasper’s one of my Ravenclaw friends.” He said as though that answered anything. 

Jack looked questioningly from Bitty to Holster, “Okay? Do I want to know what DTF is?” 

“I...don’t know,” Holster said and Bitty shrugged. “So you know Jasper?” Holster said, trying to change the subject. 

Jack shrugged, “Kind of. I know who he is.” His voice was casual but his fists were clenched. 

Jack, Bitty, Ransom, and Holster stood there staring at each other awkwardly. “Now I’m curious,” Jack said. “What’s DTF?”

Bitty shrugged again, but Ransom murmured, “Down to fuck.” 

“I don’t get it,” Jack said after frowning a moment. “Who’s fucking Jasper Leon?”

“No one,” Bitty stressed. “I’m...um. I’m going to the Yule Ball with him,” he said quickly. 

“You?” Jack looked surprised. “You’re going to the Yule Ball with Jasper?”

“Well, we’re just meeting up there,” Bitty said miserably. This wasn’t how he’d wanted to come out to Jack. 

“But he’s your date?” 

“Yes,” Bitty said firmly. If he was going to be out, he might as well try to be proud of it. “We’re not DTF though.”

“Not yet,” Holster murmured, earning a scathing look from Bitty. 

“Oh,” Jack said. His face was neutral, completely impossible to read. “Is he your boyfriend?”

Bitty scrunched up his face and scratched his forehead. “I don’t know?” he answered honestly. “We went to lunch the last Hogsmeade weekend, and have been hanging out and now we’re going to the Yule Ball.”

“All right,” Jack nodded. “That’s cool.”

It was still awkward, “Yeah?”

“Sure,” Jack said reassuringly. 

Bitty felt a moment of relief wash through him. It wasn’t that he thought he needed Jack’s approval to date Jasper, but he did feel guilty keeping that from him. 

  
  


The next morning was Jack and Bitty’s last flying practice before the Yule Ball and then winter break. As usual, Jack brought the coffee, Bitty brought the cinnamon rolls. They flew in the frosty early morning weather, bundled up in several layers of coats and robes. 

The coffee was hot and delicious. Bitty felt like he needed to say something to Jack about the night before. “Listen,” he said, as they sat shivering on the bleachers. “I’m sorry I never told you about me, you know, being gay and about Jasper.”

Jack shrugged, looking very much like he didn’t want to talk about this. “It’s fine, Bits. You don’t owe me an explanation.”

“It’s just that I told Ransom and Holster before you because they were trying to set me up with a girl for the Yule Ball and-”

“I get it,” Jack interrupted. “They were annoying you and you came out to them to get them to shut the hell up.” 

Bitty laughed a little, “Yes.”

“You told Shitty too.”

“Oh, well that was a spur of the moment thing. We were in the owlery, and he was high and it just seemed like a good time to tell someone because I hadn’t told anyone.”

“No one?”

“No. Not my friends at home, not my parents. No one, and now I made the quidditch team and suddenly four of you know, plus Jasper obviously, oh and Professor Longbottom. And it seems like a lot.” 

“Professor Longbottom?”

“Yeah,” Bitty said, blushing a little. “He overheard me and Jasper, so.” It was a small lie, because Bitty didn’t want to have to admit that Longbottom had  _ seen _ him and Jasper kissing. Admitting that would mean that Bitty might have to face the realization that half the time when he was kissing Jasper, he was thinking about Jack. 

“All right,” Jack said evenly. 

“It’s OK, though?” Bitty asked. “That I told Shitty and Ransom and Holster before you.” 

“It’s fine,” Jack assured him, his voice tight. 

“It’s not that I didn’t trust you, it just never came up-”

Jack interrupted him again. “I said it’s fine.”

They finished their coffees and cinnamon rolls in silence before heading back up to the castle. “We’ll keep flying after the break, right?” Bitty asked, because suddenly he was unsure Jack would want to. 

“Sure,” Jack said, nodding. “Of course we would.”

Bitty hated this, going into Winter Break with some kind of unspoken awkwardness with Jack. It’s not like he could get Jack to talk about it, it was hard enough to get the guy to talk about himself at all. But to talk about  _ feelings _ ? Forget it. 

The rest of Gryffindor were just starting to wake up when Bitty and Jack got back. They silently hit the showers, then went separately to breakfast. 

  
  


The Yule Ball was the following night. Lardo had snagged a photographer friend  to get a picture taken of the entire team in their Yule Ball finest. Jack, wearing his high-end designer dress robes, Shitty in robes nearly as nice, but not quite as well-fitting. Lardo was wearing a funky black and silver dress with an asymmetric hemline. Ransom and Holster were wearing matching dress robes in Gryffindor colors (they’d gone shopping together last Hogsmeade weekend), and Chowder, like Bitty, had foregone robes all together and was wearing an actual tuxedo with a black skinny tie. 

The team lined up with Bitty and Lardo in front, the taller guys in the back and smiled widely for the picture. 

Jack left first so he could go to Ravenclaw Tower to pick up Camilla. Ransom and Holster held their arms out and the Nakamura twins each took one and they headed out. Shitty waited patiently while Lardo talked to her photographer friend, then he waved goodbye to Bitty as the two of them left. Chowder looked around for Caitlin, and Bitty had to smile when he saw Chowder’s face light up as Caitlin, decked out in a gorgeous red dress with a flared skirt, descended the stairs. Chowder couldn’t take his eyes off Caitlin’s radiant face as they walked hand in hand out of the common room. 

Bitty waited several minutes in the common room, the first through third years looking at him curiously. He was taking deep breaths, trying to prepare himself for going to an actual dance with another guy. A publicly  _ out  _ guy in front of people he wasn’t ready to be out to. Finally he couldn’t put it off any longer and made his way down to the Great Hall alone.  

The Great Hall had been decorated beautifully for the event. Four large Christmas trees stood at the front, each decorated in the four House colors. The ceiling had been enchanted to make it appear as though it was snowing, though it was warm thanks to the crackling fires lit in each of the seven fireplaces throughout the hall. The house tables had been replaced with several smaller tables, which sat anywhere from six to ten, and were dotted around a large dance floor. 

Bitty looked around for Jasper and didn’t see him, but did jump when Jasper came up behind him, “Looking for me?”

Bitty grinned and turned around, “As a matter of fact, I was.”  He had to fight the urge to lean in and kiss Jasper, or even hold hands. “You look nice.” Jasper did look nice. He’d also decided not to wear robes, and went with a suit in Ravenclaw blue with a silver tie.

“Thanks,” Jasper said, smoothing his tie. He looked at his pocket watch. “Dinner is going to be served in a half hour.” 

“Great,” Bitty answered and they made their way into the ballroom. 

“Listen,” Jasper pulled on Bitty’s sleeve gently and walked him to an empty corner of the room. “I know you aren’t out, so I don’t know what you want to do about dancing, or even eating together.”

Bitty shrugged, afraid to admit how nervous being at the dance with Jasper made him. “We should eat together, definitely. 

“People will assume a lot about you from eating with me.” 

Bitty puffed out his chest and put on his bravest Gryffindor voice, “Fine then.” 

Jasper grinned, “You don’t have to prove anything to me, Eric. You don’t have to prove anything to anyone. You don’t get bonus points for coming out before you’re ready.” 

Bitty shrugged, “It probably has to happen sometime, right? How was it for you?”

“It was fine. All of my friends were fine and my parents were great, but some people made fun of me. Shit like that doesn’t bother me though, but if it bothers you, it’s something to think about."

Bitty’d gotten made fun of plenty in grade school for being a figure skater. While he didn’t  _ like _ it obviously, he was pretty good at ignoring the taunts. And now that he had his Quidditch Team as his best friends, and he saw how insanely protective they were of their own, it made him feel braver. 

“Dinner together definitely,” Bitty said firmly, “We’ll see about dancing.” 

They shared a dinner table with Shitty and Lardo, Jack and Camilla, Ransom and Holster and the Nakamura twins. The conversation centered mostly around Quidditch, which made Bitty feel slightly bad for Jasper and the Nakamuras. But they handled it all right, and everyone else had a chance to go glassy-eyed with boredom when Jasper and Holster started comparing the effects on different potions when wormwood was crushed vs. cut.  

After dinner there was dancing. Well, no dancing for Bitty at first, but after Shitty spiked the punch, he got a little happier, felt a little freer to dance with Jasper, or at least dance near Jasper. But still not drunk enough to slow dance with him. 

He didn’t know why he couldn’t get over whatever hurdle this was and just come out already. Jasper was out and he seemed really happy. But he also seemed to assure Bitty that there was no rush to come out, “You’ll know when you’re ready,” he’d say with a shrug, like it was no big deal. 

At one point Jasper went to get them more drinks. Bitty watched with interest from across the dance floor as Kent Parson approached Jasper and said something to him. Jasper look annoyed and said something back, turning his back slightly to Kent to indicate the conversation was over. Kent grabbed Jasper by the upper arm and tried to turn him back so they’d be facing each other. Jasper, now clearly aggravated, pulled his arm back and said something (Gods, Bitty wished it wasn’t so loud in there so he could overhear) and stomped away. 

Bitty looked around, and noticed Jack had also been watching the conversation between Kent and Jasper. Jack was frowning. 

“Jack,” Bitty said loudly. 

Jack snapped out of his trance, “Yeah?”

“Everything all right?” Bitty asked curiously. Something was up with Jack and Kent Parson, and Bitty wasn’t sure he even wanted to know what it was. 

  
“Sure Bitty,” Jack said sourly. “Everything’s fine.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear I will try not to let another whole month go by between chapters. My goal is a chapter every two weeks at most. But...when you have little kids sometimes real life gets in the way of fic. 
> 
> Check me out on [Tumblr!](http://my-random-fandoms.tumblr.com/) Most of my postings are about Harry Potter and Check Please.


	7. The Letters

The ride home on the Hogwarts Express was uneventful. The entire Gryffindor team sat together, squished into one compartment, though Chowder left after a while to go sit with Caitlin. 

“You get the feeling that Chowder is getting more than the rest of us combined?” Ransom asked. 

“Yeah,” Holster added. “He and Caitlin are inseparable. When they aren’t snogging in the common room, they’ve disappeared to who knows where.”

After a moment’s silence, Shitty added, “Good for him, though.”

“Totally,” Ransom and Holster agreed. “But who’d have thought wee little Chowder, fourth year Chowder, would be the one of all of us to be shagging on the regular.” 

“Sounds like you’re jealous,” Lardo grinned. 

“Oh I do fine,” Ransom assured her. 

“Can we not talk about Chowder’s sex life?” Jack asked. 

“Sorry it bothers you a fourth-year is having more sex than you, Jack.” 

“It doesn’t,” Jack said. 

“Sure it doesn’t,” Ransom cracked. 

Other than the fact that they talked about sex way too much, it was an uneventful ride for Jack. 

  
  


Jack hadn’t been home for more than a day when his dad started in on him. “I could send someone from the Kestrals out to watch you play in your last couple matches,” he said. 

“No, dad. If teams want to come watch me play, they’ll come. I don’t want them to come just because of you.”

“You should take advantage of what I’m offering. A lot of quidditch players would love to be in your shoes.”

Jack tensed. A lot of quidditch players  _ would _ love to be in his shoes, having parents who are well known quidditch players to give them a leg-up into competitive quidditch. But Jack didn’t. He didn’t want the recognition, the pressure that went with having his parents be  _ the  _ Bob and Alicia Zimmermann. “If I can’t make it on my own, I don’t want to make it at all.”

“Jack, you’re an excellent player. Of course you’ll make it on your own. Your mother and I can just help get you there. No shame in that, right?”

How could he explain to his dad that there was shame in that? A lot of shame, actually. Kent Parson, who once upon a time had been his best friend (and more) never ever let up on Jack about living up to Bob Zimmermann’s name. If Jack let his father talk his way onto the Kestrals, none of their rivals would ever let up. Possibly none of his teammates either. For the life of him, Jack didn’t understand why Bob just didn’t get this.

“I’m not even the best player on the team anymore,” Jack told his father. “Our new chaser, Bittle, is a better and faster flyer than I am.” 

Bob scoffed, “You’re being too hard on yourself. Isn’t he the kid you told me was afraid of bludgers?”

Jack wished he’d never written that in his letter back at the beginning of the season in those days before he’d realized who Bitty was as a person and a quidditch player. “We’ve worked on that,” Jack told him. “He’s a great player. Good form, amazing broom handling.” 

“Can he score like you?”

Jack paused. Because Bitty couldn’t quite score like Jack could. He didn’t have the upper-body strength to score from a distance. But his speed and skill more than made up for it. Jack told his father just that, “It doesn’t matter. He’s so skillful it more than makes up for his lack of strength. He’s a perfect set-up man.” 

“But it’s you he’s mostly setting up, right?” 

“There’s more to it than that, dad.” 

“Well, I’ll come see your next match. But you told me yourself about your reservations over this kid because he’s built more like a Seeker. Jack, there’s a bloody good reason Seekers are usually smaller than Chasers. Look at Kent Parson. He’s on the small side, and decided to use that to his advantage by becoming a seeker. He never even tried to be a chaser.”

“Kent Parson became a Seeker because that’s the position that gets all the glory,” Jack corrected his father. “Kent wouldn’t know how to be a team player if you wrote him step by step instructions or concocted a team player potion.” 

Bob shook his head sadly, “Son, I don’t know what happened between you and Kent. But we are still family friends with the Parsons, so whatever it is, you’d better get over it.”

Jack looked sullenly out the window, he really didn’t want to be talking about Kent Parson with his father. “You and mum can still be friends with Kent’s parents.”

“I know we can. The Parsons are coming over for dinner on Boxing Day.” Bob eyed Jack carefully. 

“What? Dad, no.” 

“Oh, yes. You and Kent can work out whatever differences you’ve had.” 

Jack got up from the table and stalked out of the kitchen and into his bedroom. He didn’t know what to do. The very idea that in four days time Kent Parson was going to be here was enough to send him into a near panic attack. He tried to remember what Shitty told him to do when pressure built up in his body and made it difficult to breathe. He had to close his eyes, put his hands on his chest and breathe evenly and deeply. 

It was so stupid. Getting panicked over this. Jack didn’t know why, but he had the urge to write to Bitty. He fought the urge for a few minutes, breathing deeply with his hands covering his twittering heart, before deciding to give in to it. He pulled out a piece of parchment and one of the pens Bitty had bought for him. (“Quills and ink are stupid and inefficient,” Bitty had lectured everyone in the Gryffindor common room one day while handing out ball-point pens. “Use these and you’ll thank me.”) 

_       Bittle- _

_      My winter break is off to an awful start. My dad wants to ‘help’ me get a spot on the Kestral’s roster next year. He doesn’t understand why I don’t want his help, that if      I am going to play quidditch professionally, I want it to be because I’m good enough, not because my last name is Zimmermann. I know we talked about this a little        bit a few weeks ago. It was a better conversation when I had your cinnamon rolls to go along with it.  _

_      My parents are friends with Kent Parson’s parents and they are spending Boxing Day at our house.  _

 

Jack bit his pen a little bit at this point. Bitty didn’t know, and would hopefully never know, the extent of his past with Kent Parson. Finally he continued. 

 

_      They expect me to play nice with Kent. I’m not looking forward to it at all.  _

_      I hope your holiday has been better than mine so far. I’ll see you on 2 January.  _

_      -Jack _

 

Jack wondered briefly if this was weird, sending a letter like this, considering how awkward things were between the two of them after their last flying session. Jack had never sent a friendly letter before. Sure, he wrote to his parents a few times each semester, and when he needed something, he’d sometimes write to Shitty over the breaks. But he’d never had the desire to write a nice, conversational letter. 

Still, writing it had actually calmed him more than the deep breaths, sohe figured he might as well send it to Bitty. He made his way over to the window and opened it, whistling for his owl, Zeus. Zeus, a soft grey owl flapped to the window and held out his leg. Jack tied the letter on, and gave Zeus a scratch on his head. “Take this to Eric Bittle,” he instructed the owl. Zeus hooted softly and flew off.

The next morning, Jack was at the table eating his breakfast and ignoring his parents’ conversation about what to do with the Parsons on Boxing Day, when Zeus scratched at the window.  Alicia opened the window and the owl flew to Jack. He had a letter and a small box attached to his leg. 

“Good boy,” Jack crooned, reaching into the cannister on the counter and throwing a couple of owl treats Zeus’ way. Jack carefully pulled the letter and package off and Zeus flew off after finishing his treats. 

Jack opened the letter first. 

_      Jack, _

_      I’m sorry your break isn’t going well. Mine has been mostly uneventful. I went to the skating rink with my parents. I’m bringing my skates back to school because the      lake should be frozen by the time we return. If I can find a pair, I’ll bring some for you and I can teach you how to skate. My parents and I are going to visit my                grandmother who lives way out in the country. If we can get far from muggle eyes, I’m going to show them how I can fly. They’ve never seen it.  _

_      I miss sharing cinnamon rolls with you too. I made a batch yesterday, there’s one for you in the package. I gave a few bites of one to your owl because my parents          don’t keep owl treats around the house.  _

_     Write back if you need to talk more, or even if you just want to say hi. I’d like to hear how Boxing Day with Kent goes. Good luck with that.  _

_      -Bitty _

 

“What are you smiling at?” Alicia asked. 

Jack looked up at his mother, realizing too late that he was reading Bitty’s letter with a big stupid grin on his face.

“Nothing,” he answered, arranging his features to look more neutral. “My friend Eric is a good baker and he sent me a cinnamon roll.”

Jack opened the package and saw the familiar sight of Bitty’s baking. His heart sped up, as he tried to imagine Bitty working his way around a muggle kitchen, getting ingredients and baking this cinnamon roll. He had to wonder if Bitty was thinking about him when he made them. 

Jack pulled the roll out, did a quick warming spell on it and bit into it. Merlin’s Pants, it was delicious. But eating it really made Jack long to be back at school, sitting on the quidditch bleachers and talking with Bitty. 

“Let me try,” Alicia said, leaning over with a fork and taking a bite. “Oh my. Bob, you’ve got to try this.” 

Bob grabbed a fork for himself and took a bite. “That’s bloody amazing.” 

“I know,” Jack agreed. “Eric’s a really good baker. The elves at Hogwarts even let him help out in the kitchens.” 

Bob looked at Jack a little critically, “It’s not good training food.”

Jack shrugged. He didn’t care. He finished the cinnamon roll without another word, then took the letter and shut himself in his bedroom. 

 

_      Bitty _

_      Thank you for the cinnamon roll. It was just what I needed. It made me think of sitting with you on the bleachers after our early morning flying sessions. My parents       each took a bite and were blown away.  _

_      I hope you get to fly for your parents. I was raised on a broom, but I imagine it’s hard to find things in common with muggle parents and a wizard kid. It’s nice you          have baking with your mom.  _

_      I will keep you updated on how Boxing Day goes. I keep going back and forth between shutting myself in my room and refusing to talk to Kent, or making my parents      happy and playing nice.  _

_      Have a happy Christmas tomorrow.  _

_      -Jack _   
  
  


_      Jack _

_      Happy Christmas! I hope this package makes it to you all right. I had to find my local owlery office and they suggested two owls. It’s a cake I made for you and your        parents. It’s the first I’ve made a Battenburg Cake, so I can’t really vouch for its taste. I followed my mum’s recipe which means it should be fine.  _

_      The good news is that I found a pair of skates in your size. I’m bringing them to school and I swear I will teach you to skate.   _

_      I’m leaving for my grandparents house tomorrow, so the owls will take a little longer, if you want to keep writing me that is. I hope you do, I want to hear how Boxing      Day goes.  _

_      -Bitty _

  
  


_      Bitty _

_      I’m writing this late at night on Boxing Day. I will send it to you tomorrow. The visit with the Parsons was…..interesting. It’s too much to tell you in a letter. We can          talk to about it when we get back to school.  _

_      The cake was amazing. My parents are astounded at how good everything tastes. I think our house elves are angry though, especially when mum served some of your      cake to the Parsons then gave you credit after Mr. Parson tried to compliment Boppy, our baking elf.  _

_      I hope you’re a good skating teacher because I can’t even imagine how strapping blades on the bottom of a boot and using them to run around the ice seems like a          good idea. But I trust you.  _

_      Jack _

Jack leaned back and re-read his most recent letter to Bitty. He had to think of what he was going to tell him about the Parson’s visit, because there’s no way in hell he could tell the truth. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come play with me on [Tumblr.](http://my-random-fandoms.tumblr.com/)
> 
> If you like crossovers, I recently wrote a Check Please/Queer as Folk headcanon starring Kent Parson - [here.](http://my-random-fandoms.tumblr.com/post/144918322985/check-please-queer-as-folk-crossover-headcanon)


	8. The Flashback

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the chapter title suggests, this is a flashback.

Bob Zimmermann met Seth Parson when they were eleven years old and sorted into Slytherin together. Their families knew of each other, the way all pureblood families did, but Bobby Zimmermann had spent a lot of his youth on the continent, and hadn’t met any other kids headed to Hogwarts until the day he boarded the Hogwarts Express. 

They got along perfectly. From their first scary night as eleven year old boys in their Slytherin dungeon dorm room all the way through school and into adulthood, they were as close as any best friends.  Seth was the best man when Bob married Alicia, and Bob was the best man when Seth married Kendra. 

That they both had sons in the same year was a stroke of luck, and it was obvious they’d be raising their boys to be as close as they were. 

Jack Zimmermann and Kent Parson had wildly different personalities. Jack was quiet and thoughtful but prone to moodiness. Kent was brash and outgoing and sarcastic. None of that stopped the two boys from being best friends growing up. 

They were also troublemakers. Well, Kent was a troublemaker and Jack seemed unable to say no to Kent’s schemes. Left to his own devices, Jack would fly around on his broomstick all day, only coming inside when his mother called him. 

When they were eight, Kent convinced Jack that they should sneak their fathers’ wands and work on hexes. Both spent the night in St. Mungo’s recovering from so many simultaneous hexes, it took the healers hours on each of them to figure out what had been cast. 

When they were ten, the Zimmermanns and the Parsons attended the Quidditch World Cup together in Japan. Kent managed to get a hold of a random portkey and he grabbed onto it at the same time he grabbed onto Jack’s hand, and they ended up on a rooftop in muggle Tokyo. While Jack freaked out and figured they’d be lost forever, Kent took the lead and went up to random strangers asking them if they spoke English. Any that did, Kent asked about the nearest wizarding shop. Most just laughed and shook their heads at the two strange British lads roaming the streets of Tokyo asking about wizards. 

It took nearly seven hours before one Japanese woman’s eyes widened at his question and she pulled the two boys into an alley to ask who they were and what they were doing. She fed them, and took them to the Council of Wizards, who created a portkey for Jack and Kent to get back to the World Cup Site on the island of Iriomote-Jima where their parents were going sick with worry.

When they were eleven, they sat together on the Hogwarts Express on the way to school. Both excited to begin, they were bouncing in their seats on the train the entire way there. 

It was no surprise to anyone that Kent was sorted into Slytherin. Both of his parents were Slytherins after all, and while house placements didn’t always run in the family, they usually did. Sorting was done alphabetically, and Jack was the last to be called. He placed the sorting hat on his head, sure he wouldn’t go to Ravenclaw like his mum, because he wasn’t anywhere near as smart as her. Slytherin was the assumption. 

The hat began whispering into his head,  _ You’re a brave one, aren’t you?  _

_ No,  _ Jack thought,  _ I cried when Kent and I got lost in Tokyo.  _

_ Crying doesn’t mean you aren’t brave.  _

_ Yes it does.  _

_ No. No no no,  _ The hat said,  _ It’ll take some time, but your bravery will show itself. But only if I place you in -  _

_ “Gryffindor!”  _ The hat shouted aloud. 

Jack took of the hat and walked, stunned, over the the Gryffindor table, where his fellow housemates were cheering loudly. He looked over at Kent and shrugged. Kent looked confused. They’d both assumed they’d be together in Slytherin. 

“I don’t care,” Kent said angrily the next morning at breakfast, “I don’t care that our houses never get along. They aren’t going to change us.” 

“Right,” Jack agreed. 

“We’ll be the first Slytherin and Gryffindor to ever get along!” 

“Right,” Jack nodded. It could be done. His parents, after all, had been in separate houses and had ended up married. There was no reason he and Kent couldn’t maintain a mere friendship. 

They managed it. They hung out on holidays and school breaks. But in school, they quickly fell into the trap of hanging out mostly with their own housemates. By the end of the first year, Shitty Knight had become Jack’s best friend, and Kent hung around almost exclusively with Alistair Madera and Warren Williams. 

Jack made the Quidditch team in their second year, Kent made it in their third. As always, the Quidditch rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin was quite a force. But even with that, Jack and Kent could forget it and remain friends over summer holidays. 

The summer between their fifth and sixth years found both Jack and Kent being named Captains of their respective house Quidditch teams. “Let’s promise to chill out on the hatefulness,” Kent said one day when they were lounging near the small woods in the Zimmermann’s back garden. “You and I get along OK, we’re captains now and we can make our other guys get along better, right?”

“We could try,” Jack agreed. 

Kent nodded, “Our parents are spending the evening in Muggle London tonight,” he reminded Jack, abruptly changing the subject. 

“Yeah?” 

Kent shrugged, “We should do something.” 

“Like what?” 

“Have a party?” 

Jack laughed, “What? Kenny, no. We’d have to get word out to all our friends, get ready for the party-”

“Buy booze,” Kent interjected.

“Buy booze, then clean up afterward. My parents would kill me.” 

“Killjoy,” Kent accused. He hesitated a moment before saying, “It’d be nice to have some girls around though." He gave Jack a sidelong glance. 

Jack shifted a little, “I guess.” 

“Alistair and Warren are always talking about girls. Always trying to get in all the witches’ skirts. But you and I mostly talk about Quidditch.” Kent looked over at Jack critically, over the top of his sunglasses. 

Jack cleared his throat and stared into the trees, “My dad says I have a one-track mind when it comes to Quidditch.” 

“What girls are you interested in?” 

“I don’t- Kenny, I don’t know.” 

“Are you interested in girls?” 

“I heard mum calling me a late bloomer.”

Kent laughed out loud, “Jack Zimmermann, look at your body. You are anything but a late bloomer.”

“Well maybe-”

Kent cut him off. “Maybe you just aren’t into girls.” 

“Of course I am,” Jack argued. 

Kent ran his fingers through his blond mop and looked out into the woods, “It’s no big deal, you know. I’m not so sure I’m into girls myself.”

Jack stilled. He let a few silent moments pass before asking, “What?” 

Kent shrugged it off, like it was no big deal. “I dunno,” he said. “When Alistair and Warren go on about the girls at school I just...I don’t see it.” 

Jack’s mouth went dry. “Do you..er...do you think you like other blokes?” He was trying his hardest to sound casual, though he was sure Kent could hear his heart hammering against his ribs.  

Kent didn’t answer right away. He picked a blade of grass and started twiddling it around his fingers. “I jerk off thinking about guys,” he admitted. “So...yeah.” 

“Oh,” Jack answered quietly. 

Kent looked at Jack sideways, “You aren’t grossed out? Feel like you want to beat me up?”

“Kenny,” Jack said softly, “Merlin’s sake, of course not.” 

“And listen,” Kent went on. “I know you don’t talk about girls that much, so maybe I shouldn’t have assumed you’re into blokes also. I just wanted  _ someone _ to know. Merlin knows my parents’ll kill me if they find out.”

Jack didn’t argue with that. He knew the Seth and Kendra Parson well enough to know that was probably true.

“Alistair and Warren don’t know?” Jack asked. He was inexplicably happy that Kent shared this with him and not them. 

Kent made a face, “They’re OK guys, really. I just don’t think they’d get it.”

“And you think I would.”

“Of course,” Kent said. “Even if you’re not gay, and I’m still not sure whether you are or not, I think you wouldn’t mind having a gay friend.”

“Course I wouldn’t,” Jack said. 

“You gonna tell me if you’re gay or not?” 

Jack shrugged. “Maybe if I ever figure it out.” 

Kent leaned back on his elbows and smirked. “What’s to figure out? You either want to shag girls or guys. Or both, and you’re bisexual.” 

“I dunno,” Jack answered dully. He took a deep breath and exhaled before answering. “I just...when I think about it, about sex, I can’t imagine  _ who _ it would be with mostly. Guys like Ransom or Holster, you know. They look at girls and can just imagine being with them. But I can’t do that with anyone I haven’t gotten to know and  _ like. _ This idea of just...fucking anyone isn’t something I want.”

“Huh,” Kent said thoughtfully. “I’ve had pretty terrible thoughts about most guys in our school.”

Jack laughed weakly. 

“No kidding,” Kent went on. “You can’t even imagine what I imagined Professor Longbottom doing to me in his greenhouse.” 

Jack laughed more openly, “He  _ is _ good-looking though,” he said agreeably. 

Kent smiled. “So you don’t want to fuck someone you don’t know well. Let’s say you know a girl and a guy really well. Who would you want to kiss?”

“Kenny,” Jack plead. “Don’t make me answer that.” 

“Why not?” Kent pushed. 

Because answering it would completely alter the course of his friendship with Kent, but Jack didn’t want to say it. 

“Gryffindor up, Jack.” 

“What?” 

“You’re in the house of bravery, but you’re sitting here telling me that you can’t throw a house party because mummy and daddy might get cross,  _ and _ you can’t even tell me whether or not you’re gay. Fuck, you can’t even tell  _ yourself _ and that is some real cowardice.” 

Jack’s face burned, “Fuck you,” he said quietly. 

“Prove to me how brave you are, Jack Zimmermann.” 

Jack didn’t say anything, didn’t even do anything for a full minute. He stared out into the woods, thinking about Kent. Thinking about their friendship and how much he wanted something more with someone but could never figure out exactly what it was he wanted or with whom. And it was stupid, because Kent was his best friend. Someone that his life had been tied to for as long as he could remember. And if there was someone who he’d want to take a wild ride with, it was Kent. 

Jack crawled over to Kent and kissed him on the lips. 

Kent let out a small puff of surprise before returning the kiss, closing his eyes and leaning back, pulling Jack down on top of him. 

Jack didn’t know if it was bravery or stupidity, hovering over Kent and kissing him deeply, sliding his tongue around in Kent’s mouth. Probably a little of both, any one of their parents could have looked out the window at any time and see them. But Jack didn’t care, and neither did Kent. 

They never did get around to hosting that party. Instead Kent stayed the night in Jack’s room where they snogged all night, spending hours kissing and jerking each other off. 

  
  


That had been quite a summer for Jack. It took less than a week for him to go from his first kiss to his first blow job, going down on Kent one night in the woods where they were hiding from their parents who were trying to get the boys to agree to an  _ educational _ trip to wizarding Belgium. 

But it was the best summer ever. He couldn’t remember a time when he felt loose and free like he did. Jack was a worrier by nature and anxieties often welled up in him which his mother had to cure with calming draughts. But that summer he never had to be calmed once, because he was falling in love with Kent Parson. 

For the first time since they were eleven, Jack and Kent shared a compartment on the Hogwarts Express. Shitty, Alistair and Warren were with them, and it was awkward for the three of them, but Jack and Kent managed to talk enough that they barely realized their three friends were sitting mostly silent with their arms crossed. 

Several nights a week, Jack would sneak out of his dorm room and meet Kent on the seventh floor. Kent knew how to get into the room of requirement. They’d use it as a place, not only for sex (Jack got his first proper shag, and gave Kent his first proper shag) but to talk away from the ears and eyes of fellow Gryffindors and Slytherins.

Shitty seemed annoyed at first, but at some point figured out that Jack was sneaking off with someone. He was happy Jack was getting laid, and waited patiently for Jack to tell him who it was. 

Jack and Kent spent as many days as possible together that winter holiday. The Zimmermanns were spending a few nights in Paris to visit Alicia’s family, and Jack invited Kent to go along. They convinced Bob and Alicia to let them have their own hotel room, and even though there were two beds in it, Jack and Kent slept every night curled around each other. 

It lasted for six months.

A few weeks after the winter holidays, Jack snuck out of Gryffindor Common room to meet Kent in the Room of Requirement. When he got there, Kent was already in the room and was sitting on the edge of the bed, crying. 

“Kent,” Jack said, rushing to him. In the sixteen years they’d known each other, he’d never seen Kent cry. “What’s wrong?”

Kent choked a little and pulled himself away from Jack, who was rubbing his back. 

“I have something to tell you,” Kent said quietly. 

“What is it?” 

Kent didn’t answer, but conjured a handkerchief and wiped his eyes. 

“It’s all right,” Jack said. He was trying to be soothing and calming for Kent, but his insides started jumping and he started to feel the shaking of anxiety. He took a few deep breaths before saying, “It’s OK. You can tell me.” 

Kent looked up, his eyes red-rimmed. “I cheated on you,” he announced. 

Jack wasn’t sure exactly what he was expecting Kent to say, but it certainly wasn’t that. Cheated? With whom? When?

“Uh-” Jack’s throat went dry. “What?” He asked, he pulled his hands away from Kent’s thigh, which he’d been rubbing comfortingly. 

“I’m sorry, Jack. Let me make this better.”

“What?” Jack asked again. He was at a total loss for words. 

“I didn’t mean to.”

“You didn’t mean to?” Jack was confused, unable to think straight. “It was an accident?” How is something like cheating an accident?

“I wasn’t thinking, and it was stupid. I swear it’ll never happen again!”

“What?” Jack said again. He shook his head to clear it out a little which turned his anxiety into anger. “What the fuck, Kenny? Who’d you shag?”

“He didn’t know I was already with you when we did it, do not blame him. I’m telling you because he found out about you, and said I needed to come clean with you or he would tell you himself.”

“Who was it?” Jack stressed. 

“I’m telling you again, he didn’t know.” 

“I fucking get it. I still want to know who it was.”

“Jasper Leon,” Kent said quietly. “Ravenclaw fifth year. He’s tutoring me in potions and it just came out that he’s gay and I don’t know what I was thinking Jack.”

“You fucked him.”

Kent nodded miserably. 

“Just that once?”

If Kent was going to lie and say yes, his miserable guilty face would have given him away instantly. He didn’t even need to answer. 

Jack stood up, “Fuck you, Parson.” 

“Jack, don’t go. Let’s talk about this. We can work through it.” 

Kent reached for Jack’s hand, which Jack quickly snatched away. “Don’t you dare touch me. I don’t want to work through it, I want to get away from you.” 

“Please don’t go,” Kent begged. 

Jack put up his hands to silence Kent. “Don’t. Just don’t beg. I’m leaving, and don’t talk to me again.”

Jack stalked out of the room and clattered down the stairs. He stopped in a hall on the way to Gryffindor Tower and leaned against a wall, supporting himself with his hands and cried.  _ Jesus _ he didn’t know it would hurt this bad. He hadn’t expected this of Kent, he was totally caught off guard and a part of him felt like he was in a dream. 

His chest ached. It ached in that way that he knew he would soon start having trouble catching his breath. It ached in that way that it always did when he had no fucking clue what to do. Not knowing what to do was sure to make Jack panicky. He knew he probably should have gone to Madame Pomfrey like a good boy and get a calming draught from her, and she could sit next to him on the bed and pat his arm and ignore his humiliation while she told him that she was “always there” if he ever needed “someone to talk to.” 

He  _ did _ need someone to talk to, but it wasn’t Madame Pomfrey. He needed the one person he could actually count on in this world. The one person he’d been spending less time with since he’d started shagging Kent Parson. Shitty Knight was one person would would never disappoint Jack. At least, Jack hoped he wouldn’t. 

He slowly made his way back to the common room. His feet felt like they were wading through mud. His mind felt like it was wading through mud as well. He barely remembered giving the Fat Lady the password, but he must have because when he got up to the sixth year boys’ dormitory he looked around and noticed Shitty’s empty bed. 

Jack was pretty sure he knew where Shitty was, so he turned back around and went out the common room once again, the Fat Lady complaining about him interrupting her beauty sleep. 

Jack made his way up to the owlery. Sure enough, there was Shitty, sitting on a blanket, bong in hand intently watching a bunch of owls swooping in and out of the open windows. Jack sat there and watched Shitty in his high contentment for a few moments, and thought about what a fucking  _ luxury _ that kind of contentment would be. 

Finally he spoke up, “It’s fucking cold up here, Shits.” 

Shitty turned to Jack in surprise. “Jack! What the hell are you doing up-” Shitty cut himself off as Jack stepped into the soft light given off by Shitty’s lantern. “What happened?” 

To his own embarrassment, Jack began to cry. Shitty patted the blanket next to him and Jack sank himself next to his friend, where Shitty held Jack to him and Jack proceeded to cry all over the front of Shitty’s shirt. 

“Shhhh,” Shitty whispered rubbing Jack’s back.  “Take your time. You can tell me,” he said in a soothing voice. 

After a few minutes, Jack gathered his bearings. “I’ve been sleeping with Kent Parson,” he said quietly and evenly. 

The hand that Shitty was rubbing along Jack’s back stilled for a moment, and in that moment Jack regretted saying anything. But soon enough, Shitty went back to rubbing and said, “Well. That is not what I expected to hear. Why the tears?”

God, of course Shitty wasn’t going to be angry. This was  _ Shitty _ , who would never disappoint Jack. He let the whole story out. He started with the kissing Kent the previous summer, and how much time they’d been spending together and sneaking into empty classrooms or the Room of Requirement, and finally ending with Kent’s admission about shagging Jasper Leon. 

“That fucker,” Shitty spat. “I will kick his arse for you.”

“Nice offer, but I could do that myself.”

“Damn it,” Shitty said, kicking the ground a little. “This is really fucked up.” 

“I’m sorry,” Jack said, tears still leaking out of his eyes. 

Shitty gave him a bemused look. “What are you sorry for? You didn’t do anything wrong.” 

“I. Shits, yes I did.”

Shitty looked even more stunned. “What? What do you think you’ve done wrong?” 

“I fucked Kent Parson for one.”

“Well, he wouldn’t’ve been my choice of blokes to shag, but to each his own.” 

“I’m gay.” 

“And you think that’s wrong?” Jack was silent for long enough that Shitty continued, “Please tell me you don’t think there’s anything wrong with that.”

“It’s not ideal,” Jack mumbled. 

“Idiot,” Shitty muttered affectionately. He held the bong out to Jack, “Take a hit. It’ll chill you out.”

Jack grabbed the bong and thought for a moment, but only a moment. He was pretty determined to not go for a calming draught and figured pot always seemed to relax Shitty, maybe it would be be good for him too. 

Shitty showed Jack how to conjure a small flame with the tip of his wand and inhale the pungent smoke, hold it in and exhale. It took Jack a few tries to get the smoke into his lungs and hold it there. He took two hits before Shitty took the bong away. “Wait,” he instructed Jack. 

Jack waited, and within a few minutes his mind became slightly foggy. Not so much that he was confused, but more….relaxed. In fact, this was the most relaxed his mind had been in a while. Jack decided this wasn’t fog at all, it was  _ clarity. _ He was seeing things clearly for the first time. 

“I don’t think it’s wrong to be gay,” he explained to Shitty. His voice sounded slightly too loud in his own ears, but he didn’t quite know how to modulate his voice. “It’s just that I wish I wasn’t.” 

“My crazy Uncle Barnaby used to say ‘Wish in one hand and shit in the other and see which one fills up first.’” 

“What?” Jack asked. Then he started laughing, “What does that even mean?” 

Shitty shrugged, “Dunno. It’s what old Barnaby used to say when one of us kids wished for something we couldn’t have.” 

Jack found himself unable to stop laughing as he repeated Shitty’s words, “Wish in one hand and shit in the other, huh?” 

Shitty and Jack sat for a few moments in a smiling silence. “It’ll be all right,” Shitty said quietly. 

Jack looked up at him, his blue eyes meeting Shitty’s soft brown eyes.  Jack wanted to kiss him, and at once, Shitty knew it. Jack could tell Shitty knew it by the way his eyes widened just slightly. His lips parted and Jack leaned in. 

Shitty didn’t kiss back, but he did let Jack kiss him for a few moments, before putting his hands on his friend’s shoulder and pulling away. “Jack,” Shitty said sadly shaking his head. 

“Sorry,” Jack said quickly. “Sorry, you know I’m high.” Jack was embarrassed. He wanted to run away and not have to face the fact that he just fucking kissed his best friend. 

“I know.” 

“It won’t happen again,” Jack promised. 

“I’m not mad,” Shitty assured him. “I’m just not gay. If I was though, you’d be the first bloke I’d want to shag, right?” 

Jack smiled ruefully, “Look, I’d feel a lot more comfortable if we could just not ever talk about this again. Pretend it didn’t happen.” 

Shitty eyed Jack for a few silent moments, as though he was trying to decide if that was emotionally healthy or not, and finally nodded. “Sure, Jack.”  They sat together in their high silence for several minutes before Shitty quietly reiterated, “You say the word, Jacky, and I’ll kick Kent Parson’s arse for you.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Visit me on [, where Check Please and Harry Potter are my two most-tumbled fandoms. Also? I have REALLY good intentions about updating this fic more frequently. But then real life (boo, real life) keeps getting in the way.](http://my-random-fandoms.tumblr.com/)


	9. The Story of Kent

Kent Parson wasn’t an asshole. OK, he was a little bit of an asshole, he could admit that much, but he was sure that his reputation was far worse than he actually was. 

He knew he’d been an asshole to Jack Zimmermann, but with a really good reason. He was also an asshole to Jasper Leon, but that was something else entirely. Something he couldn’t really defend even to himself.

Kent’s best friends in Slytherin were Allistair and Warren, and they were girl-crazy. It drove Kent mad, having to hear them go on about which girls had the nicest tits. In Kent’s mind, tits were not his thing at best, and fucking ridiculous at worst. Kent could usually try to make himself scarce whenever those two would bring up girls, but as they got older, it seemed Warren and Allistair were  _ always  _ bringing up girls. 

It took longer than it probably should have for Kent to realize he’d better go along with his friends when it came to girls. He knew he was into blokes, but that was not a secret he’d like to get out. Not to Warren and Allistair, because they may have never said anything about gay people, Kent was sure would not be happy to hear that he was into guys. And he  _ definitely  _ didn’t need word to get around to his parents who would definitely have disowned him. 

Kent was jealous of Jack Zimmermann. Because the Parson parents were not quiet about the types of people they hated, and among the list that included muggles and immigrants, was gay people. Jack Zimmermann had Bob and Alicia for parents, and it killed Kent that Jack didn’t even know how fucking  _ lucky _ he was. Jack could complain all day long about his parents, but Kent knew that in the end, Bob and Alicia would do anything for Jack. Kent wasn’t even sure his parents ever really wanted a kid. To them, Kent was a means to pass on the Parson name. Kent couldn’t even see why people like Bob and Alicia would be friends with his parents. 

At the beginning of the summer before their sixth year, Kent spent a lot of time hanging out at the Zimmermann’s place. After a few days, Kent came to the realization that Jack  _ never  _ talked about girls, even though he’d gone on a few dates with Camilla from Ravenclaw on Hogsmeade weekends. After another few days of pondering, Kent began to think that maybe, just maybe, Jack was gay also. 

He tried to get Jack to talk about girls, but Merlin’s sake, the boy was thick. Sly questions about girlfriends were non-answered with a grunt. They had to read the Dumbledore biography for summer reading, and Kent said, “Weird that Dumbledore was our age when he was shagging Grindelwald, huh?” It was answered with another grunt and shrug from Jack.

So he wasn’t getting anywhere, and decided he might just want to ask Jack. 

That, of course, ended with Jack acting like a fucking Gryffindor  _ for once, _ and kissing him. When Kent flipped Jack over in the grass so he could keep kissing, he looked up and locked eyes for the briefest moment with Bob Zimmermann who was watching them from inside the house. 

He didn’t tell Jack, because Jack would have predictably flipped the fuck out. Kent put on his coolest face, and returned to snogging the hell out of Jack. Later that evening when the parents were going out to dinner and Kent and Jack decided to stay home, Kent felt Bob’s eyes bore into him. But Kent remained silent and refused to look back at Bob. 

It should have been awkward. Kent spent a lot of time at the Zimmermann’s that summer, but he was so thrilled to be shagging Jack, he never let the awkward get the best of him. Bob was golden, as far as Kent was concerned, because he could tell that he’d never let on to Alicia or to the Parson parents what he saw. But Kent knew, just by the way Bob would look between him and Jack, that he was well-aware how their relationship had changed. 

Kent didn’t think much about it until the first week of school when Jack began complaining about his father. Bob wanted to help Jack get scouted for professional Quidditch. I mean, poor baby, right? Kent couldn’t stand it, listening to Jack complain about something that he would absolutely kill for. 

But then….something occurred to Kent. Despite the fact that the Holyhead Harpies were about half lesbians in any given year, there weren’t any gay male professional Quidditch players. And it’s not like, despite assholes like his parents, gay people were oppressed that much (it was worse in a lot of other countries, but British wizards prided themselves on being more open-minded). It was that there hadn’t been, in the entire history of professional Quidditch in Britain, a gay male player. Kent knew Jack had some issues with anxieties, that Jack could fold in on himself when he felt overwhelmed. Jack loved Quidditch more than anything, but he loathed being the center of attention. 

Kent knew they couldn’t be in a relationship if Jack was going to play professional Quidditch. And Jack was  _ definitely _ good enough to play professionally. 

But at the same time, Kent couldn’t bring himself to break up with Jack. Because he was pretty sure he was falling in love with Jack. 

Still, when the opportunity to sabotage his relationship with Jack, Kent jumped on it because he knew he was too weak to break up with Jack for Jack’s own good. Kent was going to have to force it. It would hurt, and Kent hated hurting the person he loved. But in the long run, Kent knew Jack would be better off without him. He could go on to play professional Quidditch without a secret gay relationship hanging over his head like some kind of Sword of Damocles. 

Jack Zimmermann was many things, Kent knew, but a guy who is able to deal with a shitload of pressure in a healthy way is absolutely not one of them. If Kent and Jack were in a secret relationship while Jack was playing Quidditch, something was going to give. Whether it was Jack’s Quidditch career (which Kent didn’t want), Jack’s mental health (which Kent also didn’t want), or their relationship (which Kent didn’t want, but was the best of the three options), Kent didn’t know. 

When Jasper Leon decided to stop hiding his sexuality, Kent pounced. Jasper was such a nice guy - nice enough that Kent knew he could fairly easily take advantage of him. Kent never loved Jasper the way he did Jack, but he was someone he could go snog in an empty classroom at night. And then came the day that Kent accidentally on purpose let Jasper see the love bites Jack had left on his chest the night before. 

“Who gave you those?” 

“Uh-” Kent said, ducking his chin toward his chest.

“Are you seeing someone else?” Jasper asked incredulously, backing away from Kent, his face horrified. 

Kent scratched the back of his neck. “Yes?” 

“Who? No wait, don’t answer that. Were you with me first or this other guy?”

“Him.”

“So you’re cheating on him with me.”

Kent nodded miserably. Kent wasn’t stupid. He knew he was being a raging asshole. What he didn’t count on was how  _ bad _ he’d feel for Jack and Jasper

“I want to know who it is,” Jasper said. 

“He’s not out,” Kent answered. 

“I’m not going to  _ out _ him,” Jasper said, exasperated. “I just want to know. Maybe we can start a club: fucked over by Kent Parson.” 

Kent scowled, “You won’t tell?” 

“Why the fuck would I? He’s not the one who did anything wrong here. You should worry about yourself, Kent.”

“It’s Jack Zimmermann.”

Jasper’s eyes widened, “Holy shit.” 

“Right?” 

“Oh my god. That bloke has got a lot on his plate already what with his parents and his Quidditch talent.” 

“Right,” Kent agreed. “Don’t say anything to him.”

“Merlin’s pants, Kent. If you don’t tell him about us, I will. Jack’s already high strung enough without having you lie to him about shagging me on the side. He’s got to know the truth.” 

This had been Kent’s plan. Hook up with Jasper, have Jack find out so they could have a clean break. It had made sense when Kent first decided that. But now? Kent could see that this had been a royally stupid idea. Any worries he had about him and Jack and Quidditch could have much more easily been solved by having a simple fucking conversations with Jack. 

But then again, Kent was a Slytherin and Jack was a Gryffindor. If they’d been in Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff maybe he would have figured that out in time. 

Kent sighed, “Fine. I’ll talk to him.” 

Jasper nodded. “You’re really an asshole, you know that?”

Kent nodded miserably, “I know.” He’d had two guys to shag, one of whom he possibly loved, and now he had nothing. If that didn’t make him an asshole, what did?

So Kent told Jack, and Jack acted as expected. They broke up, and they weren’t even friends anymore. Even though this is what Kent wanted - to give Jack a clean break from himself before starting Quidditch, Kent didn’t feel good about it. He was sick over it.

And he got even sicker over it when he realized Jack was making the same moony eyes toward his new chaser, Eric Bittle, that just a year earlier he’d made for Kent. Christ, a short blond guy with a lot of broom speed. Zimms sure had a  _ type. _

One night Kent, Alistair and Warren snuck out to the Forbidden Forest to smoke pot with some centaurs, and on their way back at six in the morning, Kent spied Jack and Bittle flying around the Quidditch Pitch. He watched as they laughed and chased each other, finally flying gently to the ground where they shared a drink and some food and talked quietly with their heads nearly pressed together. 

Kent wanted to throw up. 

Fucking Bittle. How could that idiot not see how much Jack liked him? How could that idiot actually go to the Yule Ball with Jasper Leon? 

Kent couldn’t help himself. At the Yule Ball, he watched as Jasper left Bittle’s side for a moment to get a drink and Kent sidled up to him. 

“Eric Bittle, eh?”

Jasper scowled at him, “Not that it’s any of your business. But yes.”

“Pity he’ll never look at you the way he looks at Jack Zimmermann.” 

Jasper paused a moment, the ladle filled with punch ready to tip into a glass. “What are you talking about?”

Kent scoffed, “Well, I thought it was obvious.”

“You’re an asshole,” Jasper said, as he finished pouring two drinks, took them and stalked back to Eric. 

Jasper tried to put Kent’s words out of his mind, but couldn’t help notice as he walked back toward his date that Eric was standing next to Jack looking very concerned, and that Jack’s fists were clenched and his face gave away a barely controlled rage.   
  
  


Then it was winter break and Kent went to the Zimmermann’s house for Boxing Day. Their parents were being boring, so Kent followed Jack silently into his room. 

Maybe it was boredom. Maybe it was something else. 

They shagged quickly and quietly and without looking at each other. Then Jack told Kent to leave with a cold “This doesn’t mean we’re getting back together.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on [Tumblr!](http://my-random-fandoms.tumblr.com/)
> 
> It might be another month or so before I get the next chapter out. I had it nearly done, but then decided to go back and fix/change some things.


	10. On the ice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear I haven't given up on this story. It's just...well, it's been a while and I had a major case of writer's block on it. It'll be a bit before I get the next chapter up. I'm doing Nano in November and finishing up [this story](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7991212/chapters/18288868) at the same time. Check it out if you're in to Harry/Neville :)

Bitty was looking around Platform 9 ¾ for Jack. He spotted him standing sullenly next to a man who had to have been his father. The older man looked almost exactly like Jack, but with brown eyes and thirty years on him. Bitty made his way over to the Zimmermanns. “Jack. Hi.”

Jack’s face broke into a grin, “Bitty,” he said shaking him on the shoulder a little. 

“I’m Bob Zimmermann,” Jack’s dad said, giving Jack a knowing look. “I’ve heard about you from Jack. He says you’re quite the flyer.” 

“Oh!” Bitty’s face turned a little pink.

Jack rolled his eyes, “ _ Dad. _ ”

“Jack, I’m just complimenting the boy.” Bob turned back to Bitty, “Alicia and I will be at your next match against Ravenclaw. I’m looking forward to seeing you play.”

“Well,” Bitty’s eyes darted between Bob, who was smiling, and Jack, who was looking pained, “I look forward to seeing you there.” 

“C’mon Bitty,” Jack grabbed Bitty by the elbow and pulled him away, “Let’s go find a spot on the train.” 

Bob followed them, “No goodbye for me?”

Jack turned around, “Bye, dad.” He gave Bob a perfunctory hug. “Tell mum bye for me, too.” 

“Sure,” Bob said, trying to hold on to Jack’s hug a little longer, but Jack squirmed away and led Bitty to the Hogwarts Express. 

“Things weird with your dad?” Bitty asked. They were some of the very first ones to board, which means they had their choice of compartments. 

“Always,” Jack said. “He’s obsessed with getting me onto a quidditch team after I graduate.” 

“What do you want?” Bitty asked. 

Jack shrugged, “Honestly? I do want to play quidditch. I want to get onto one of the professional teams. I just don’t want it to be Kenmare. I don’t want it to be because of my last name."

“If quidditch doesn’t work out?” Bitty asked quietly. 

Jack leaned his head against the back of his seat and looked at Bitty sideways, “Hey, let’s not talk about this.” Bitty laughed and Jack continued, “How was your grandparents’ house?” 

“Nice,” Bitty perked up. “They live on a horse farm, you know. They don’t have any neighbors so I was able to pull my broom out and fly for them. I thought I might get in trouble, you know, because I don’t know if flying is considered ‘doing magic’ outside of Hogwarts, but no one from the ministry contacted me. Coach was real impressed with how I could fly, and he’s actually interested in seeing a quidditch game. I don’t think it’s possible for muggles to come to a match though.” 

“Coach?” 

“My dad,” Bitty said. “Everyone calls him Coach. He’s a league football coach.”

“Right,” Jack nodded. Bitty had told him that before. 

Jack opened his mouth to ask another question, then Shitty burst through the compartment doors, “Fellas. I’d like you to meet my new girlfriend,” he paused to pulled Lardo into the compartment with him, “Miss Larissa Duan.” 

“Seriously?!” Bitty exclaimed jumping up to give Lardo a hug.

“It’s about damn time,” Jack said. “What took you so long?”

Shitty’s arm was around Lardo’s shoulders, “We just wanted to be sure,” Shitty said. 

“Also,” Lardo interrupted, “Shitty didn’t have the balls to ask me out until the Yule Ball.” 

“Ah baby,” Shitty said, pushing her short hair behind her ear and leaning down and kissing her, “I couldn’t bear to think of you saying no to me.”  

Shitty and Lardo sat on the bench across from Jack and Bitty, hands held until Shitty would decide to put his arm around Lardo, or when she’d lean on him casually. They were in constant physical contact, which made Bitty both beam, and if he was honest with himself, seethe with jealousy. 

He wanted that. He wanted the public hand holding and the canoodling, and he just felt like he was destined to never have it. 

At one point in the trip, Jasper joined them in their compartment. “How was your holiday?” he asked Bitty. 

“Fine,” Bitty answered. “We went to my Grandparents’ house and I flew my broom, so my parents could see me fly. I explained a little about Quidditch.”

“Sounds nice.” 

“Yeah,” Bitty nodded. “Sorry I didn’t write you back. My parents were just...you know. They were taking all my time. Keeping me busy.”  Jack turned and looked at Bitty with interest. Bitty had written to  _ him _ , but not to Jasper? 

“That’s fine,” Jasper said, like it was nothing at all to go more than two weeks without hearing a word from his boyfriend. He and Bitty talked quietly for a few minutes. Jack was trying to have a conversation with Shitty, but listen to BItty and Jasper at the same time. He wasn’t succeeding and kept getting distracted. Finally, Shitty gave up and let Jack stare out the window with an ear cocked toward Bitty and Jasper’s conversation. 

Even when Jasper left, Jack didn’t feel like talking to anyone and spent the rest of the ride staring out the window, watching the scenery roll by. 

  
_x_  
  


“I don’t know about this, Bitty,” Jack said, staring at the pair of ice skates in his hands. 

“Trust me,” Bitty said, lacing up his own skates. “It takes a bit to get used to, but you’ll get it.” 

“These are boots with knives strapped to the bottom,” Jack pointed out. “That hardly seems safe.”

Bitty smiled, “You fly a couple hundred feet in the air on a regular basis, but you’re scared of ice skates.” Bitty shook his head a little at that. “I’ve perfected my cushioning charm, so you won’t even get hurt when you fall.” 

“ _ When _ I fall?” 

“Trust me, you’ll fall but it won’t be that bad.”

Jack sighed as he sat down on the rock nearest the frozen lake, which Bitty had performed a warming spell on just moments earlier, and pulled off his snow boots, before pulling on the ice skates. “You go ahead,” he said to Bitty, “I want to watch you first.”

Bitty hopped up, and hobbled through a few feet of snow before stepping carefully on the ice. As soon as he did, he pushed off gracefully and glided several feet toward the center. Jack watched with interest as Bitty skated around a little bit, slowly at first, but then speeding up a little. He was making perfect figure-8’s, skating on only one leg with the other stretched out behind him. Bitty moved on the ice like he did through the air - like he was born to do it. Jack could have watched him all day.

After several minutes of the figure 8’s and stretching his legs out, Bitty really started to move, and Jack actually gasped out loud when he saw Bitty do a jump. “Merlin,” he said, just loud enough for Bitty to hear. 

Bitty stopped and skated toward the edge of the lake, “That’s nothing,” he said, his cheeks pink from either the cold or exertion. “That was a single, I can also do that as a double, but it’s been a while and I need to play it safe for now.” He waited for a moment, “Come on!” he urged. 

Jack stood up, a little unsure of himself, and hobbled over toward the lake. He hadn’t realized how much height the skates would add, and he felt tall, lumbering like a half-giant. His ankles were turning in uncomfortably as he slowly crunched through the snow to the lake. 

“Wait,” Bitty said just before Jack stepped onto the ice. He skated toward Jack and pointed his wand at Jack’s butt, “ _ Molliasedero, _ ” he murmured. 

Jack felt a tightening sensation through his pants. “A cushioning charm?” he asked. 

“You’re going to fall,” Bitty reminded him.

“I bet I won’t,” Jack said, determined to show Bitty he could do anything he put his mind to. 

“Oh, Jack,” Bitty laughed and grabbed his hands, “Come on then.” 

Jack took one step onto the ice and immediately his legs went out from underneath him and he landed flat on his butt. Bitty skated backwards, cackling at Jack’s sheepish face. 

“I deserved that,” Jack called to him. “Help me stand up.”  As Bitty pulled Jack back to a standing position, and let Jack move his legs back and forth, Jack added, “I didn’t know it’d be so  _ slippery. _ ” 

“It’s  _ ice, _ ” Bitty pointed out. “Let’s go a little further out.” He pulled on Jack’s hands, and Jack, not moving his feet at all, was dragged across the ice by Bitty, who had no problem standing on his skates. Even though Jack wasn’t moving his feet, he still managed to stumble every now and then. Finally after a few minutes, Bitty let go of his hands and Jack managed to stay on his feet and glide about two meters on his own. 

“Now what?” he asked, standing still. “How do I start moving?”

Bitty demonstrated how to start, and with some false starts, and a lot of use of the cushioning charm, Jack managed to a shaky few feet on his own. 

Jack was freezing, he was a little humiliated by how awful a skater he was compared to Bitty, his legs were shaky, and his ass was going to be bruised for days. 

He also couldn’t remember when he’d last had so much fun. 

  
_x_  
  


“I thought he was helping you be a better flyer,” Jasper said to Bitty later that night. They were studying together at the library, a  _ muffliato _ cast around their table so they could talk without disturbing the other students. 

“Well, yeah. I wanted to show him how to skate.” 

“Where’d he even get a pair of ice skates?” 

“I...uh. Well, I found some in his size and brought them to Hogwarts.” 

“You know Jack Zimmermann’s shoe size?” 

Bitty blushed, suddenly realizing how it must sound to Jasper that he knew Jack’s shoe size. “It’s not like I  _ asked _ him his shoe size. It was something that came up in conversation once and I remembered. Then my dad’s old skates were the same size, so…” That was a lie. Bitty had intentionally gone to buy a pair of used skates in Jack’s size at the rink where he used to train. But no reason to tell Jasper that. 

Jasper looked skeptical. To make him feel better, Bitty asked “What’s your shoe size?” 

Jasper couldn’t decide where this line of questioning was headed, “Ten,” he answered after a moment’s pause. 

“Hmm,” Bitty said thoughtfully. “My dad’s a twelve and I’m a nine.” He rested his chin on his hands which were folded on the table. “If you’re interested in learning to skate and I can if my parents can find you a pair.”

“I’m not actually interested in learning to skate. I went to the muggle rink a couple times with my parents when I was little and I was pants at it.” 

“So..” Bitty said. 

“Well,” Jasper shrugged. “Maybe I could watch you some time?” He asked it carefully, like he wasn’t sure what Bitty would say. 

Bitty’s eyes brightened and he sat up straighter, “Really?”

“Well, yeah,” Jasper said as though it should be obvious. “You’re my boyfriend and skating is important to you. So, yes. I’d like to watch you.” 

“How about tomorrow morning?” Bitty asked. 

“What about flying?” 

Bitty waved his hand dismissively, “Jack and I don’t fly every morning anyway. But I was planning on bringing my skates down to the lake again about six o’clock.”

“With Jack?” 

Bitty had been planning to ask Jack to go along, but instead he answered, “Of course not. Just me. And you, if you’re interested.” 

Jasper looked relieved, “Yes. I’m interested.” 


	11. Gryffindor vs. Ravenclaw

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I bet you guys thought I'd abandoned this fic. 
> 
> Well, I haven't. I was just really really REEEEEEALLLLY blocked on it. But I think I know the direction I'm going now, so hopefully there won't be any more five month delays in posting new chapters. 
> 
> Also, I was so anxious to post after all this time, this chapter was written fairly quickly and I only proofread it through once, so I apologize for any errors.

“I forgot my bag,” Bitty called to Ransom, Holster, Lardo and Chow. “I’ll meet you back up there in a few minutes.”

They’d been at Quidditch practice one evening, just a few days before their match against Ravenclaw. Jack had been running late, going over something with Madame Hooch while the others had showered and headed back up to the castle. As Bitty neared the small locker-room cottage by the Quidditch pitch, he narrowed his eyes to see Kent Parson entering before him. 

Bitty hurried the rest of the way to the locker room and looked around as he quietly opened the door and stuck his head in. He could hear Jack and Kent talking behind a couple of rows of lockers, just where Bitty would need to go to get his bag. 

It sounded as if Kent had surprised Jack, because when Bitty stepped in quietly so as not be be heard, he heard Kent’s voice interrupting Jack saying something, “Please, Zimms. It’s not like I haven’t seen you naked before.” 

“What’re you even doing here?” Jack demanded. 

“I just wanted to talk to you alone.” Bitty cringed. He knew he shouldn’t be eavesdropping, but he really needed that bag. It had his Herbology book in it, and he had a evening greenhouse lecture with Professor Longbottom right after dinner. 

“We have nothing to talk about,” Jack said. 

“The hell we don’t,” Kent said. “You think we can just shag on Boxing Day and you can get away with never talking to me again?” 

Bitty’s eyes went wide and he had to concentrate to keep from gasping out loud. Jack and Kent?  _ Jack and Kent????  _ No wonder Jack had been so cagey with Bitty about what had happened on Boxing Day. 

“That was a mistake,” Jack said. “We never should have done that.”

“Why not?” 

“Because we broke up,” Jack said angrily. Bitty could hear him getting dressed. “In case you don’t remember, Kenny.  _ You _ cheated on  _ me. _ OK? It was over a year ago, but I’m still really pissed about it.” So this wasn’t just a Boxing Day thing? Jack and Kent had actually been together at one point?

“You weren’t acting pissed on Boxing Day,” Kent chided. Bitty started to get an inkling of what may have happened in his head, but he was finding it difficult to believe. 

“I told you. That was a mistake.” 

“Can’t we work it out?” 

“I don’t think so,” Jack said. There was a pause, Bitty didn’t know what was happening. Then Jack spoke again, louder and firmer, “Kenny. I said no.” 

“Look, Jack. I fucked up. OK? I take total blame for that.” 

“You’d fucking better take total blame for it,” Jack practically growled. “You’re the one who decided to go shag Jasper Leon while we were still together.” 

And that inkling Bitty’d had just seconds earlier was confirmed. Bitty recalled Jasper telling him that he had unwittingly been the ‘other guy’ in another relationship. That it was Kent and Jack was so shocking, Bitty was sure the shock of hearing it would never wear off. 

“Look,” Kent said. “You can be pissed at me all you want, but you and I both know that’s not the reason you won’t get back together with me.” 

“Oh yeah?” Jack asked. Even without seeing their faces, Bitty could tell Jack was in disbelief. “Well, tell me Parse. What do you think the reason is?” 

Kent snorted, “Please. You’re so in love with that tiny chaser it’s not even funny.” 

Bitty’s eyes widened. He didn’t even want to hear Jack’s response. He pushed the locker room door open loudly and let it slam and called out, “Jack?” as though he’d just walked in.

There was a little scuffling as Bitty made his way around the corner of the locker rows, “I forgot my bag,” Bitty said, pointing to the floor just a few feet away from Jack. “It has my herbology book for my lecture tonight.” He was trying his level best to keep his face neutral, as though he hadn’t heard anything. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Kent Parsons feet underneath the shower curtain, but Bitty chose to simply turn his body away and pretend he didn’t see it. He trained his eyes on Jack, who was shirtless and looking terrified. 

“Oh, sure.” Jack said, and rearranged his features into a more relaxed gaze. He picked the bag up and handed it to Bitty.

“You want to come to dinner?” Bitty asked. “The others are already there.” 

“Uh,” Jack’s eyes darted quickly toward the shower where Kent was hidden. “Yeah, I’m done here.” He pulled his shirt on and grabbed his equipment bag, hoisted it on his shoulder and said, “Let’s go, Bitty.” 

They were quiet on the way up to the castle, each lost in their own thoughts. But, despite what Bitty had just overheard, (though Jack was unaware of Bitty having overheard anything) it was a comfortable silence. No matter that Bitty had a crush on his captain, and was now aware it was possible his captain returned those feelings, they were friends first. And good friends could walk along in companionable silence with absolutely no discomfort. 

Still, Bitty’s mind was racing all through dinner, and he could barely pay attention to the evening lecture by Professor Longbottom, even though he was one of the more interesting professor at Hogwarts. 

It was enough that Bitty had gone from thinking Jack was straight to knowing for a fact he was, well maybe not gay, but at least not entirely straight. But could it be possible that Jack actually liked him?

Bitty couldn’t be sure if he’d done the right thing in slamming the door right at that moment. He wasn’t sure entirely why he did it, possibly because he couldn’t have stood it to hear Jack deny liking him. This way, he may not know for sure, but there was hope. 

God, Bitty had to get his head on straight. They had a game against Ravenclaw in a few short days, not to mention the mountains of homework they were getting in preparation for O.W.L.s. 

He really couldn’t allow his entire headspace to be taken up with thoughts about Jack Zimmermann. 

And oh yeah, Jasper was still his boyfriend, so he shouldn’t even be thinking about another guy.

____

The Saturday of the Ravenclaw game was bright and blustery. It had snowed the day before and the grounds were covered in a twinkling white. It was cold, but the sun was shining so brightly and reflecting so harshly across the snow, that everyone outside, players and spectators alike, needed sunglasses. 

“This is going to make it difficult to see the snitch,” Jack said to Lardo. “You’ll need to keep a keen eye out.” 

“Gotcha, Cap.” Lardo nodded firmly. 

“Chowder,” Jack said, turning to face him. “Unfortunately, you’ll be facing the sun. That puts us at a great disadvantage. Just try your best to keep your eyes on the Quaffle and Bludgers without losing them in the sunlight. Make your shades darker if you have to, and when the action is at the other end of the pitch, give your eyes a break from the sunlight.” 

“Sure thing, Captain,” Chowder said. 

“The rest of you,” Jack looked around. “We don’t just want to win. We want to beat Ravenclaw by more than Slytherin did. So me, Bitty, and Shitty are going to work on those trick passes we were practicing last week. Ransom, Holster, protect us at all costs.” 

Everyone nodded and huddled in for a quick cheer, then they hoisted their brooms on their shoulders, lined up next to the Ravenclaw players, also all wearing dark sunglasses, and marched onto the pitch to loud applause. 

Despite the fact that Bitty hadn’t been able to think about anything the last few days but the conversation he’d overheard Jack and Kent having, he was able to put it out of his head during the game. He’d grown up competing in athletics, after all. He knew the pressure of winning and how you had to keep your mind on what you were doing. 

So by the time Madam Hooch blew her whistle and the teams rose into the air, Bitty wasn’t even thinking about Jack and Kent. He was thinking about Quidditch. 

The game got off to a fast start, mostly thanks to Bitty getting possession of the Quaffle immediately. He was flanked by Ransom and Holster who took care of the bludgers the Ravenclaw Beaters sent his way, no problem. He’d learned to trust those two when it came to bludgers. He didn’t even flinch when they came his way anymore. 

Bitty was too fast though, and as he got toward the Ravenclaw end, he had to actually slow down and wait a fraction of a second for Jack to catch up. Jack was several feet below Bitty, and as the Ravenclaw beaters came straight at Bitty, Bitty dropped the quaffle into Jack’s waiting arms. Before the Ravenclaw keeper had a chance to even comprehend Bitty didn’t have the Quaffle anymore, Jack threw it as hard as he could, toward the hoops. The cheers in the stands went up as Gryffindor took the lead. Bitty had pulled out of the way of the Ravenclaw beaters before the Quaffle had even gone through the hoop. 

“Fuck!” He heard one of the Ravenclaw Beaters swear to the other. “Yo, he’s even faster now!” 

Bitty grinned wickedly, knowing his flying practice with Jack was paying off. 

His grin was short-lived, as Ravenclaw immediately went down and scored on Chowder, who was having trouble with the sun. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Jack said to Chowder, who was looking incredibly angry with himself. 

They bent over their brooms, and Bitty, Shitty and Jack got a hold of the Quaffle, passing it back and forth as quickly as they could, trying to confuse the Ravenclaws. They managed to score two more times. Once by Jack again, the other by Bitty, who was flying so fast, it was just him and the Keeper, one on one. 

Jack huddled the team, “They’re on to us, that we’re using speed to our advantage and they’re going to start regrouping,” he said. “Maybe keeping one of their chasers near the hoops to cut Bitty off. So we’re going to go heavy defense as they get the Quaffle. Just absolutely surround them. Lardo, keep an eye out for the snitch and if you think it’s safe, distract them with a feint.” 

They all agreed and got into their most aggressive position, flanking the Ravenclaw chasers all the way down the field. It was a mass of confusion as Ransom and Holster launched bludgers to the two chasers not holding the Quaffle, leaving only one Chaser able to score. At the same time Lardo broke through the Ravenclaw beaters, pretending to have spied the snitch, causing them to break their concentration for just a moment - enough for Bitty to breakaway and place himself right near Chowder. As Chowder made a spectacular save, sending the Quaffle right into Bitty’s awaiting arms, and he sped down the pitch toward the Ravenclaw hoops. 

All in all the game was fast and furious. And the Gryffindors were absolutely clicking in a way they never had before. Bitty felt a psychic -a damn near spiritual- connection with his fellow Chasers. They seemed to know where the other would be without saying anything. Ransom and Holster were always perfectly in sync. And Lardo used her own gift of speed to break up any Ravenclaws huddled together, all while searching the pitch for the snitch. 

Thirty minutes into the game, the snitch hadn’t been spied by either side, and the score was seventy to twenty in favor of Gryffindor. The audience was manic and split 50/50, with the Slytherins and Ravenclaws rooting for Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff and Gryffindor rooting for Gryffindor. 

Ravenclaw called a timeout, and the teams huddled. Jack was giving out quick instructions, and everyone was nodding, without quite listening thanks to the adrenaline pounding through their veins. In the middle of an instruction, Jack stopped and his eyes widened slightly behind his sunglasses. “Lardo, I just saw the snitch hiding behind the middle hoop. About four feet off the ground.” 

“Got it,” she whispered. 

“If she doesn’t get it,” Jack told the others, “We need to keep up our speed. Who knows how much longer this game will last.” 

Madame Hooch blew her whistle and they took their places in the air, Lardo hovering closer to the Chowder and his hoops. Play started, Bitty got the Quaffle while Lardo turned and zoomed toward the post. By the time she got there, the Snitch had gone. But Bitty had managed to get the Quaffle to Shitty, who scored his first goal of the game. The score was eighty to twenty. 

Another fifteen minutes later and the score was now One-hundred Ten to Forty. One of the Gryffindor shots had even been made by Ransom. A trick play that involved Ransom pretending to miss a bludger, only to hit the Quaffle Jack tossed to him. 

Bitty was exhausted, trying to maintain his speed, and Jack could tell. But as he was getting ready to call for another time-out, he noticed Lardo and the Ravenclaw Seeker speeding toward the same spot. Everyone was trying to keep an eye on those two, and Bitty used that to his advantage to use a burst of energy toward the hoops and score again, giving the Gryffindors 120 points. 

Not five seconds later, Lardo caught the snitch. Gryffindor won 270 to 40. A couple of months earlier, Slytherin had beaten Ravenclaw 230-60. 

The team piled up as best they could in the air, hugging and celebrating. They lined up and flew toward Ravenclaw, hands outstretched. “Good game. Good game. Good game,” the murmured to the Ravenclaws. At the end of the row was the Ravenclaw Keeper and Captain, Jonathan Faber. 

“Hey,” Faber said to Bitty, shaking his hands. “I’m not just saying good game to be polite. I really mean it.” 

“Thanks,” Bitty felt flushed. 

“You’re amazing,” he said. “I can’t believe you’re muggle-born.”

“Oh stop,” Bitty tried to wave him off.

“Seriously,” Faber said. “I wouldn’t be surprised if teams come to recruit you your seventh year.” 

Jack overheard this comment and put his arm around Bitty, “He’s right you know.” 

Faber nodded to Jack, one Captain to another. “I hate losing,” Faber said. “But we never stood a chance.” 

Faber shook Jack’s and Bitty’s hands again, and the two Gryffindors flew down to meet the rest of their team, already on the grass and being mobbed by their housemates. 

As they landed and got off their brooms, Jack pulled Bitty into a hard embrace. Bitty was shocked. Jack wasn’t one for displays of emotion, but he hugged hard and leaned down to say into Bitty’s ear, “I’m so fucking proud of you.” 

As they pulled back out of their hug, they saw Bob and Alicia Zimmermann standing there with big smiles on their faces. Bob gave his son a hug, and for once Jack seemed comfortable, even happy with his father. As Alicia took it in turn to hug Jack, Bob turned to Bitty. “Eric Bittle, as I live and breathe. I knew you could bake a mean cake, but for some reason I didn’t believe Jack when he told me how well you handle a broom.” 

“Oh, well,” Bitty said dismissively. 

Bob took Bitty’s face in his hands. “You listen to me, kid. You’re something special up there. Play your cards right, and you and Jack might play together again professionally once you leave Hogwarts.” 

“Mr. Zimmermann, that is really kind of you.” 

“Dad, don’t embarrass him,” Jack said.

Bob put one arm around Jack and the other around Bitty. “You boys,” he said shaking his head. “There’s nothing to stop you two.” 

Bitty laughed a little, enjoying this feeling of being fathered by Bob Zimmermann. He looked up and saw Jasper watching them from a few feet away. 

“Oh!” he said. “I’ll be right back,” and he ducked out from under Bob’s arm and made his way over to Jasper. 

“Hey,” he said to Jasper.  As Jasper said hi back, Bitty looked back to wave once more to Jack, Bob, and Alicia, and could just see the look Jack was giving him and Jasper. A shocked look, maybe a little sad, maybe a little pensive. But before he could even register it, Bob said something to Jack and Jack’s features evened out until they were absolutely neutral. 

“That was quite a game,” Jasper said. 

“Sorry for your loss,” Bitty answered. 

Jasper laughed a little, “No you’re not.” 

Bitty laughed and agreed. “You’re right.” 

“You want to get lunch together after you shower?” 

“We’re having a celebration in the Gryffindor common room. So, I think I’ll just head up there?” 

“Yeah,” Jasper nodded. “See you tomorrow.” 

Bitty nodded and watched Jasper walk away, wondering if he should have been more interested in going to lunch with his boyfriend than with celebrating with his team. He shook the thoughts out of his head, and walked back over to Jack, where he hugged Bob and Alicia goodbye, and they headed over to the locker rooms together.

The party in the Gryffindor common room lasted the entire day and into the evening. Professor Longbottom made his appearance to congratulate them, carefully pretending he didn’t see the bottles of firewhiskey and elderflower wine. 

Bitty got drunk. A lot drunker than he’d been after the Hufflepuff game. Where he had been a little maudlin after Hufflepuff, he was now giggly and outgoing. He was surrounded by people congratulating him, and Jack looked on with pride. 

“This fucking bloke,” Shitty said, standing next to Jack and resting his elbow on Jack’s shoulder. “He’s something, huh?”

“Yeah,” Jack said, not taking his eyes off Bitty though he was talking to Shitty. “It’s unbelievable it’s his first year playing.”

“You did good, Captain.” Shitty patted him on the back. 

“Hmm,” Jack said non-committally. 

“You did,” Shitty stressed. “I know it’s not enough for you right now-”

“What do you mean?” Jack asked, finally tearing his eyes off Bitty to look Shitty dead in the eye.

“Well, Jack. It’s obvious.”

“No it’s not.” 

“Alright.” Shitty shrugged. “Listen when he finally catches wise and breaks up with Jasper, you can make a move. But you know after what happened with you and Kent-”

Jack interrupted Shitty a second time. “It’s not like that.” 

Shitty gave Jack a skeptical look and took a swig of firewhiskey. He barked out a laugh and said, “Sure Jack,” and walked away with an exaggerated wink.

Jack headed over to Bitty, where he was talking to a group of people, including one girl trying her absolute best to flirt with him. “On the next Hogsmeade weekend, we should hang out,” she said hooking her arm through Bitty’s elbow.

Bitty, drunk and happy, laughed a little. “Oh sweetheart, you are trying to stir the wrong cauldron.”

Jack’s eyes widened. He realized what Bitty was about to do and he tried to elbow his way through Bitty’s admirers to get him to shut up. But he was too late, Bitty added, “I’m into blokes. ‘N fact, I’ve been seeing Jasper Leon for a couple months.” He laughed and hiccupped a little. 

“Oh,” said the girl, pulling her arm back through Bitty’s elbow. “Well.” She looked like she didn’t know what to say. 

“C’mon Bits,” Jack said, hoisting Bitty up by his waist. “Let’s go try to sober you up.” 

“Sure,” Bitty slurred, wrapping his arms around Jack’s neck and letting himself be drug along. 

Jack tried not to concentrate on how much he loved having Bitty’s arms around his neck, “Do you know what you just did?” 

“I just helped us win a Quiddish game,” Bitty slurred. 

“You just outed yourself to the biggest gossip in the whole school. Everyone’ll know by breakfast tomorrow.”

“I don’t care,” Bitty sang. He pulled his arms out from around Jack’s neck and flung them wide. “I don’t care anymore, Jack. I don’t care that people know I’m gay!” 

He’d said it loud, and it had gotten the attention of nearly everyone in the common room. 

“Good thing you don’t care, pal,” Shitty said sarcastically. “Because there is no taking that back now.” 

“Ha!” Bitty laughed, and flopped down on the couch. 

Jack sat gingerly next to him. “Bitty, I hope you don’t regret this.”

“I won’t,” Bitty assured him, leaning over and running his fingers through Jack’s hair. It was such an act of affection, and Jack knew he should pull away, but he just...couldn’t. “I promise I won’t regret this. I am a Gryffindor, after all. Might as well be brave about it.” 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Un-beta'ed. All errors are my own.

Word travelled fast at a school like Hogwarts. While Bitty slept his hangover off the next morning, a few Gryffindors told a few of their friends from other houses about Bitty loudly outing himself the night before, and those friends told a few more friends, and on until the end of breakfast when the entire school knew. 

Bitty, unaware he was the talk of the school, finally drug himself out of bed at nearly eleven o’clock. Shitty was waiting for him in the common room with a hangover potion. 

“You couldn’t have woken me up to give this to me?” Bitty asked, his voice scratchy. He flopped onto the couch and winced as pain shot through his head. Shitty handed the bottle of bright green liquid over. 

“Wanted to let you sleep,” Shitty said, watching Bitty unstopper the bottle with shaky hands and take the potion. “You remember what you did last night?” 

“Drank too much,” Bitty answered as he finished up the potion, and put the glass on the table. He sunk his head into his hands and pressed his fingers into his closed eyes. “How long does this take to work?” 

“Give it a few minutes,” Shitty answered. He sat carefully next to Bitty. “You remember you came out last night, right? To the entire house?” 

As soon as Shitty said it, Bitty remembered. “Oh yeah.” He shrugged. 

“Jack and I went to breakfast together while you were sleeping and….”

“And what?” 

“The whole school knows,” Shitty said. 

“God,” Bitty murmured. His hangover was slowly unraveling, his brain becoming unmuddled with every second. He worked his head around, getting the kinks out of his neck. As his thoughts cleared, he wasn’t quite sure  _ what _ to think about what he’d done. Because even though there was a bit of regret there, it’s not like he could do anything about it. He was pretty sure time-turners were a wizarding urban legend, and even if they weren’t, they couldn’t be used by a kid who changed his mind about coming out of the closet. 

And what was the worst that could happen by him being out? He knew some people had it rough. But, Bitty couldn’t deny, he was. a Quidditch star. And much like in a muggle school, being a star athlete had its perks. Like no one trying to bully you for being gay, so long as you weren’t a male figure skater anyway. 

“You ok?” Shitty asked after several moments silence. 

Bitty leaned back and gave Shitty a small smile. “Yes I am. I guess there’s nothing to be done now, right?”

“You know we’ve got your back if you need it.” 

“I know,” Bitty said. “And I appreciate it.” 

“Jasper asked me and Jack to let you know to meet him for lunch in the Great Hall this afternoon.” 

“Oh, yeah. Maybe I should have talked this over with Jasper, huh?”

“He didn’t seem mad,” Shitty said. He tilted his head sideways and studied Bitty for a moment. “What are you going to do about him?”

“What do you mean?” 

“Are you staying with him?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Bitty asked. There’s no way Shitty could have known about the conversation he’d overheard between Jack and Kent. Bitty realized that he didn’t even know if Shitty knows that Jack’s gay. 

“Uh,” Shitty said as though he realized he couldn’t say why he thought Bitty would break up with Jasper. “Yeah, I’m an idiot. Never mind. I just thought it was a secret and now it’s not, and I didn’t know if Jasper would be OK-” 

Bitty cut Shitty off (and thank God because Shitty was rambling and didn’t even think he was making sense) “Jasper’s been out since last year, Shits.” 

“Right,” Shitty said, nodding. “I forgot that I guess.” 

Bitty gave Shitty a mystified look. “Thanks for the hangover potion. It really worked.” He stood up. “I’m going to shower.”

After his shower, Bitty went to the Great Hall. It was almost time for lunch to be served, and he was absolutely starving. He was the first one there, and sat down and pulled out a piece of parchment and a pen and began writing a letter. 

_ Dear Mum and Coach, _

_ How is everything at home? How is your team looking up this season, Coach? Things are great at Hogwarts. We won our Quidditch game yesterday, 270-40. I scored six times, which is sixty of those points. The Gryffindor team is really coming together. I hope to be able to get you to see a Quidditch game at some point.  _

_ The real reason I’m writing is that I needed to let you know something very important. There’s something I’ve wanted to tell you for a very long time, but I never really knew how. And I don’t want you to be angry at me for keeping secrets. But some secrets are hard to let out. The thing is, I’m gay. And maybe this is something you’ve always suspected because I’ve never had girlfriends? Or maybe this is a total shock to you? I don’t know.  _

_ I just didn’t want to go on keeping this from you. I hope you aren’t disappointed in me, and that you don’t hold it against me that I’ve been keeping this really important part of myself from you. I love you both very much and it’s important to me that this doesn’t change our relationship.  _

_ Please write back. I miss you both and I will see you over the spring holiday. _

_ Love,  _

_ Eric _

Bitty looked up. He’d written that quickly, wanting it to be over with. As he’d been writing, students began to trickle into the Great Hall. He saw Jasper come in, look around and see Bitty. Jasper trotted over to the Gryffindor table and sat across from Bitty. 

“Hey,” he said, reaching over and grabbing Bitty’s hand. 

“Hey yourself,” Bitty said. “I guess you heard?” 

Jasper snorted, “Look around, Eric. People are watching us.” 

Bitty’s eyes scanned the room and he noticed Jasper was correct. People were, indeed, looking at them curiously. 

“Sorry I didn’t talk to you about it,” Bitty said. 

Jasper waved him off, “No worries. I gathered from Shitty that you’d had a bit of firewhiskey?” 

“More than a bit,” Bitty admitted. 

“What’re you working on?” 

Bitty slid the letter over to Jasper so he could read it. Jasper’s eyes scanned it, then he looked back up at Bitty, eyebrows raised. “You came out to your parents?” He sounded impressed.

“I figured I’d better. They keep in touch with my Professors and if someone says something…” 

Jasper nodded. “You think they’ll be OK?” 

“Mum will be,” Bitty said confidently. “Coach is...well. He’s Coach. He’s gruff and silent, but he’ll probably be fine in his own way.” 

At that moment, food appeared on the table. Bitty folded up the parchment and stuck it into his pocket. He and Jasper helped themselves to food, as the rest of the Gryffindor table filled up. The previous day’s Quidditch match was the talk of the table. Everyone wanted to relive the glory of Gryffindor’s win point-by-point. 

At one point, Holster said to Jasper, “Sorry. This conversation must suck for you.” 

Jasper shrugged, “Not so much. I like Ravenclaw and all, but I dislike our entire house-system so my house allegiance is shaky at best. Besides,” Jasper looked at Bitty and smiled, “Eric had a great game and that makes me the happiest.” 

“Well,” Bitty blushed. 

Shitty, the only one who noticed Jack’s scowl, rolled his eyes. 

They finished eating and Jasper went with Bitty to the owlery to send the letter to his parents. Then they split up back to their dorms with plans to meet in the library to study together in a half hour. Jasper was going to tutor Bitty for his potions O.W.L.s. 

In the library later, Shitty and Jack were supposed to be studying for N.E.W.T.s, but it was difficult to concentrate, what with Jasper and Bitty at a nearby table, heads bent low over their own work and ankles hooked together. After several attempts to get Jack to concentrate on their studies rather than continuing to narrow his eyes in Jasper’s general direction, Shitty finally had to set up a  _ muffliato _ charm and talk to him. “Don’t worry,” Shitty said. “I doubt it’s going to last.” 

Jack looked up at him, “What’s not going to last?” 

Shitty nodded his head towards Bitty and Jasper. “Those two. They like each other fine, but they it’s not some great romance, yeah? They’ll be over before you know it.”

Jack sniffed and pulled his books toward him, “I don’t know why you think I care.” 

Shitty cocked his head and stared at Jack with an air of disbelief. “Lie to yourself all you want, motherfucker. But don’t you  _ dare _ lie to me.” 

Jack turned to face Shitty full-on. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

“Then you’re a much bigger idiot than I thought,” Shitty said, now laughing openly at Jack. “Blimey, Jack. Anyone can see how much you like Bits.” 

“I like him as a teammate,” Jack said stiffly. “Same way I like you. We’re mates.”  

Shitty rolled his eyes, now nearly incapable of handling Jack’s denial. “Lying to yourself.” He shook his head sadly, “Can’t even see it for yourself.” 

“Can we not talk about this?” 

“Can you not give Jasper the stink-eye every time you see him? Look, I’m sorry he’s snogging your boy, but he’s actually a really nice guy.” 

“I know,” Jack said gruffly. He hated admitting it. “Jasper’s a good bloke.” 

“Give it time,” Shitty said kindly. 

Jack bit his lip, on the cusp of denying it some more. Instead he gave in. Shitty could always read him better than he could read himself anyway. “I like him enough to want him to be happy.” 

Shitty rubbed Jack’s shoulder, “I know, mate. He’s happy, but he could be happier and when he realizes it-” 

“Should I come out?” 

“Blimey, Jack. That’s up to you.” 

“What would you do?” 

“If I was gay? And I was me? I’d probably have been out for a long time. But I’m me and you’re you. I don’t have to take anxiety potions. And if I had to take anxiety potions and was trying to get a spot on a professional quidditch team, well that changes everything. There’d be a lot more scrutiny and whatnot-”

Jack interrupted him, “Are you telling me not to come out?”

“I’m telling you that you should be 100% sure if you want to. Don’t do it on a whim or because you’re drunk like Bitty did. Or because you feel like you need to compete with Jasper Leon.”

“I guess I should think about it more,” Jack said thoughtfully. 

“You do that,” Shitty said. “In the meantime, I have a feeling things will work out.” 

____

A few nights later, Bitty gave up on studying and made his way to the kitchens to make cinnamon rolls for flying practice with Jack the next morning. The house elves greeted him warmly. 

Mipsy tottered forward, carrying an apron. She held it out for him, “Eric, Sir. You are here to make cinnamon rolls?”

“Thanks,” Bitty grabbed the apron and put it around his neck. “I’ve had just about enough of studying today, so I thought I’d come help you make them.” 

The elves had been making the cinnamon rolls for Bitty to take flying with him and Jack because Bitty had gotten so busy with studying and Quidditch practices that he hadn’t been able to do it. But still, it was nice to get into the kitchen and make them himself occasionally. 

He and the elves got the ingredients out and started mixing. While they were waiting for the yeast to bloom, one elf, Nonnie who had a knack for being either curious or nosy, said to him, “Eric, sir. You make these rolls for the boy you love?” 

“What? No,” Bitty explained. “Jack is my Quidditch captain.” 

“You always make his favorite,” Nonnie pointed out. She leaned her overlarge head in her hand and stared up at Bitty with her tennis-ball eyes. She looked anxious for student gossip. 

“Goodness,” Bitty said. “I do make his favorite, I suppose. But that’s because he’s been taking a lot of time out of his schedule to give me flying lessons. The least I can do is bring him his favorite breakfast.”

“Oh,” Nonnie looked disappointed. “Nonnie thought it was a love thing.”

“We love flying,” Bitty said. 

“The elves heard that you took a boy student to the Yule Ball. Dobby told Nonnie and the rest of the elves that Eric has a boyfriend.” 

“I do,” Bitty said. “It’s just not Jack. Jack is my quidditch captain.” 

“Who is your boyfriend?”

By this time all of the other elves in the kitchen had gone still, and even though they weren’t staring at Bitty with a look of being hungry for gossip the way that Nonnie was, he could tell they were listening intently. 

“Oh, er- Jasper Leon. You know, from Ravenclaw.” 

There was a moment of stillness, then the elves started slowly working on whatever they’d been working on before. “Ohhhh,” Nonnie nodded. “What desserts does he like?” 

“I….” Bitty trailed off. He tried to remember what Jasper had said he liked. Shit, he’d eaten several meals a week with Jasper for the last couple of months and he couldn’t remember a dessert he liked? Then he remembered when they’d eaten at the Three Broomsticks that first time. “He likes jelly rolls,” Bitty finally answered. “I don’t know that they’re his favorite, but he does like them.” 

Nonnie’s ears perked up, “The Hogwarts elves have a very ancient most delicious recipe for jelly rolls, Eric, sir! We will make some for your boyfriend right now!” 

“Maybe tomorrow night I’ll come by and we can do it?” Bitty suggested. He didn’t even know if he’d be seeing Jasper at all the next day.

“Oh, sir. We look forward to it!” The elves all nodded eagerly with Nonnie.

Bitty and the elves rolled out the dough, then Bitty brushed butter on it and sprinkled the perfect amount of cinnamon and sugar. He left the elves to roll the dough and cut it, putting into the magical proofing drawer. They would bake them, and leave them by his bed in a magically warmed box to take flying tomorrow morning. 

On the way back to the Gryffindor common room, Bitty stopped in a deserted hallway and sunk to the floor. He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. Did it mean something that he’d known Jack’s favorite dessert, but not Jasper’s? Did it mean something that the elves had assumed Jack was his boyfriend? 

A couple of weeks ago, Bitty would have laughed these questions off. But ever since he’d overheard that conversation between Kent and Jack, Bitty didn’t quite know  _ what  _ to think anymore.


	13. Jasper

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd mentioned in the comments section of last chapter that I didn't mean to make Jasper my butt-monkey when I started writing him as an original character. Honestly it wasn't my intention. Anyway, I'm sorry about that and here's a whole chapter of Jasper. 
> 
> Also I'm trying to get this posted quickly, so I'm not doing a bang-up job of proofreading. This is un-beat'ed and all errors are my own. Lemme know if you spot anything awful.

 

The thing about Jasper Leon is that he always put up an air of confidence. He was basically the smartest wizard in the school, and even though he wasn’t a braggart, he was definitely well aware of that fact. Beyond book smarts, he knew his magic was more powerful than average as well. He didn’t have much of a problem learning wordless spells, and he’d just begun taking apparition lessons and was already ready to take his test as soon as he turned seventeen. 

He was nice to people, he always made sure of that. If he ever felt frustrated at people for not being as good at every subject than he was, all he had to do was remind himself at how bloody awful he was on a broomstick, and he’d realize that everyone had different talents. 

And, hey, he knew he wasn’t exactly a supermodel. But he didn’t think he was awful to look at. 

So yes, overall he was a fairly confident person. But sometimes the confidence was an act. Like, coming out to the whole school. He pretended to be totally nonchalant about having come out, but the truth was that he’d come out by accident, been forced out almost. There were these magazine he’d found hidden in the Room of Hidden Things. And well, they were porn. And some of them featured women and some featured men, and when Jasper happened upon them, he was very ( _ very _ ) interested in the ones with men. And he got so involved in what he was looking at, that he didn’t notice Warren Williams standing there watching him. 

To call Warren Williams a bully was an understatement. He could be downright terrifying, and he laughed at Jasper and called him every name in the book. So Jasper did the only logical thing he could think of; He came out publicly so that he could control his own story and not Warren or any of his little Slytherin buddies. (Making out with Kent Parson, one of Warren’s best friends? Probably not the best decision Jasper had ever made. But Merlin’s balls, Kent Parson was a great kisser.) 

And Jasper’s relationship to Eric? He had no confidence in it. At the beginning he did, but ever since Kent Parson had talked to him at the Yule Ball, Jasper couldn’t get his voice out of his head. Over and over he’d hear in Kent’s voice  _ Pity he’ll never look at you the same way he looks at Jack Zimmermann.  _

Sure, Kent probably just wanted to get under his skin. But my god if it didn’t actually work. Since then, Jasper couldn’t help but notice the way Jack and Eric looked at each other. He wondered if Eric knew Jack was gay. Probably not, Jasper supposed. If Eric knew, Jasper was sure he would have been ditched. 

It’s not like Jasper wanted to run off and marry Eric. Eric was a nice guy and he was fun to snog and his Gryffindor friends were surprisingly supportive and welcoming to Jasper when he sat with them in the Great Hall. But it’s not like he was in love with him or anything. But it didn’t mean he wanted to lose Eric to Jack Zimmermann.

 

 

A few mornings after coming out, Jasper met Bitty in the Great Hall for breakfast. At this point, the rest of the Hogwarts students were used to seeing the two together, and the whispers and pointing had died way down. They were eating and talking quietly when the post owls came swooping in. One landed in front of Bitty, and he leaned in to see who it was from. His eyes widened, “My parents,” he croaked. 

He didn’t touch the owl; he seemed to scared to do it. Jasper finally leaned forward, and untied the letter from around the owl’s leg. He gave a few bites of bacon to the owl, scratched her affectionately on her head, and off she flew. Jasper handed the letter out to Bitty, but he wouldn’t touch it.

“I don’t know if I want to read it,” he admitted. 

“C’mon, Eric,” Jasper coaxed him. “You seemed so confident a few days ago when you were writing the letter.” 

“But time passed, and now-” he shrugged. “All this time goes by. Why can’t the wizards just have email? At least I could have gotten out what I had to say and had their reaction immediately!” 

“It’s frustrating,” Jasper agreed. He was still holding the letter out. “Just take it.” 

“You read it first,” Bitty said. 

Jasper looked at Bitty, trying to gauge how serious he was. Bitty looked absolutely serious. “Alright,” he said. He slit the letter open and scanned it quickly. He looked up at Bitty and smiled, “They’re fine.” 

“Really?” Bitty grabbed the letter from him and read it. His face relaxing into a grin. 

The first part was written in his mother’s handwriting: 

_       Dear Eric, _

_       Thank you for coming out to us. I hope you haven’t been worrying about our response so much. Because we want you to know that no matter what we will always           love you. Whether you are gay or straight, we still feel the same way. We only want, and have always wanted, you to be happy. Learning you are a wizard came as         much more of a surprise to both of us than this news does. I hope that coming out to us wasn’t causing you anxiety, because I would like to think that we raised you       to know how much we love you. _

Then it switched to his father’s handwriting. 

_       Son - _

_       I am very proud of you. I know that I work the the sport industry which can be very cruel to gay people, but I am not like that. I have a gay player on my team,               though he has sworn me to secrecy. I love you very much, and if you have a fellow I want you to know you can bring him to meet us this summer. Congratulations           on winning your Quidditch match. _

Then it switched back to his mother’s handwriting.

_       I agree with your father, about bringing home someone to meet us. If you’d been living at home and had a girlfriend, we would have wanted to meet her. I don’t             want you to think it’s any different now.  _

_       We love you and will always love you. _

_       Love, _

_     Mum & Coach _

Bitty looked up at Jasper, his eyes shining. “Well, I guess you’re invited to come meet my parents this summer.” 

  
  


After classes on Thursday afternoon, Bitty and Jasper both had a free period, which they usually spent together. If the day was warm, and it so rarely was this time of year, they would wander around the castle grounds. On cold days, they would go to the library, or sometimes hide in an empty classroom for a quick snog. 

It was cold out on this day an Bitty and Jasper were cuddling in front of a fire Jasper had lit in the fireplace of an unused classroom on the sixth floor. “I brought you something,” Bitty said, holding a box out to Jasper.

“What’s this for?” Jasper asked. 

“Nothing,” Bitty said. “I did some baking with the elves. You know, they let me in the kitchen with them when I feel like baking.” 

Jasper opened the box and grinned, “It’s a jelly roll,” he sounded pleased. “Eric, how’d you know?” 

“That first time we got together at the Three Broomsticks,” Bitty explained. “You ate a jelly roll with your tea.” 

“Should we eat some now?” Jasper asked. He waved his wand and a knife and two small plates appeared. Bitty was impressed, conjuring items was not his strong suit. 

Jasper cut two slices and put them on plates. “Mmmm,” Bitty said appreciatively. “This recipe isn’t mine, it came from the elves.” 

“It’s quite good,” Jasper said. “The strawberry tastes fresh.” 

They ate their jelly roll, then spent the remainder of the time until supper snogging on the stone floor that had been charmed to feel like a feather bed. 

How stupid that something as stupid as being brought a jelly roll made Jasper feel that much more confident in his relationship with Eric. Maybe Kent Parson was wrong. Maybe he was just being an asshole. Maybe Eric really did only like Jack Zimmermann as a friend, or as a Quidditch Captain.

Jasper pulled Bitty down on top of him and sunk their hips together.  Screw Kent Parson; Eric was here with him, he should feel good about that.    
  
  


Jasper was doing extra astronomy work. It’s not like he loved astronomy, but he was in the habit of doing all the work, and more, that teachers assigned him. So he found himself one frigid night in mid-February on top of the astronomy tower, following Mars all night long. That’s it, following its path the whole night until the sun started to rise and Mars wasn’t visible anymore. 

He was exhausted. No amount of coffee brought to him by Nonnie could have kept him wide-eyed and chipper. As the sky just started to brighten at the horizon, Jasper began packing up his telescope when movement across the grounds caught his eye. He held his telescope back up to his eye and spotted two figures flying across the Quidditch Pitch. It was Eric and Jack. 

Jasper wasn’t surprised; He knew the two of them liked to go flying early in the mornings a few times a week. He wasn’t jealous either, because Jack was Eric’s Quidditch captain, and since Eric hadn’t grown up with Quidditch, he needed the extra practice. 

Jasper watched them for a few minutes. Even he, who wasn’t much for sport or flying on broomsticks, could see how natural a talent both of them were. They had such an easy demeanor on their broomsticks, and even watching them race from one set of goal posts to the other had Jasper holding his breath to see who would win. (Eric did, but only barely.) 

Jasper’s view of the two of them was clear. His telescope was strong enough to look at Mars, after all. It had no problem watching two people several hundred meters away. 

After a few races, Jack and Eric slowed to a stop and sat in midair, chatting. Jasper couldn’t read lips, and he had no spell to help him overhear what they were saying. Not that he would have eavesdropped anyway, he felt guilty enough just watching them through the telescope. 

It was at that moment, that Jasper knew that Kent Parson was 100% correct. Eric would  _ never _ look at him the way he was currently looking at Jack. He could see the eye contact, the way his eyes crinkled when Jack said something funny. (Jack Zimmermann, funny? No way.) 

He knew it was wrong to keep spying on them, but Jasper just couldn’t make himself put the telescope away. He stood up there on the astronomy tower and watched as his boyfriend, and his boyfriend’s friend flew and raced and absolutely flirted their faces off at each other. By the time they touched down, Jasper was actually surprised they hadn’t kissed. 

He kept watching as they slid into the bleachers and Jack produced a carafe of coffee that he split into two steaming mugs. Eric produced something baked. Jasper fiddled with the settings on his telescope and saw two large cinnamon rolls. He also saw Jack’s face light up and his eyes roll back into his head in near ecstasy as he bit into one of the cinnamon rolls. 

Jasper knew Bitty made those cinnamon rolls. Jasper could tell by the look on Jack Zimmermann’s face that it wasn’t the first time he’d had Eric’s baking. This was a thing they shared, and they shared it a few days a week. 

Jasper finished taking apart his telescope and packed it away. He made his way indoors to the warmth of Ravenclaw Tower, where he collapsed on his bed and didn’t wake up until lunch time, having missed all of his morning classes.    
  
  


Jasper spent the weekend avoiding Eric. He sent him little notes:  _ Sorry, not feeling great. Will talk soon. -J. _

Really, he spent most of his weekend in bed and in the Ravenclaw common room. Jasper’s best friend was a Ravenclaw sixth year girl called Emily Harris, and Jasper told her all of his fears. 

“If he wanted to be with Jack, he would,” Emily said. “But he’s chosen you.” 

“I don’t even know that Eric knows that Jack’s gay. I’m not even supposed to know about it. Maybe he thinks Jack is straight and he’s settling for me.” 

“You aren’t someone to be settled for,” Emily said. 

Jasper looked at her, “You’re absolutely right.” 

“What are you going to do?” Emily asked. 

“What else can I do? I have to split up with Eric.” 

  
  


Jasper got his chance on Monday. He pulled Eric into their usual unused classroom and told him in a monotone voice that he was breaking up with him. 

“Why?” Eric asked. His eyes had gone wide. 

“I don’t think we’re right for each other.” 

“What did I do?” Eric wondered. 

“It’s nothing you did,” Jasper said. “It’s just….” he couldn’t very well explain it. After all, if Jack wanted to come out, that was Jack’s business. But Jasper couldn’t out Jack to Eric, that would be wrong. 

“It’s just what?” Eric asked. Tears had started leaking out of his eyes. 

“I can’t tell you why,” Jasper finally said lamely. 

“Is there someone else?”

Well, there was Jack Zimmermann, but Jasper couldn’t say so. “No,” he stressed. “I am not interested in anyone else. I can’t explain it, Eric. I just don’t think we’re well-matched.” 

“Is it because I’m not a good student?” 

“God, no. Merlin, that’d be a hell of a reason to break up with someone. I like you, Eric and I hope we can be friends.” 

“Is it because I don’t want to have sex yet?” 

“Oh, no. No, no, no. That would be an even more awful reason to break up with someone. I promise it isn’t that. I was fine going slow. This isn’t about...anything like that.” 

Eric was a silent cryer, and it practically killed Jasper to watch him with tear running down his face. “I’m so confused,” Eric said. 

“This isn’t easy for me-” Jasper began. 

Eric interrupted him, “Then  _ why? _ ” 

“I just don’t think we’re right for each other,” Jasper said. He knew it sounded lame. And if he’d been braver, maybe he would have suggested to Eric that Eric go find comfort with Jack Zimmermann. “I think we’d make better friends than boyfriends. You don’t have to settle for me just because I’m the only other out gay guy in the school.” 

“I don’t even know what to say to that!” Eric cried. “You think I was settling?” 

“A little, yeah.” Jasper said honestly. 

“That’s dragonshit.”

“I don’t think it is,” Jasper said in a quiet but serious voice. 

Eric huffed angrily, “I don’t know what you want me to say.” 

“Say you’ll be okay,” Jasper said. 

Eric looked at him, the hurt clear on his face. “I’ll be fine,” he sniffed. He gathered his backpack and hitched it on his back and stalked to the door. He opened it up and looked back at Jasper, who looked crestfallen.

Without another word Bitty walked out the door, letting it slam shut behind him. 


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's this? An update? After five months?   
> I didn't do a single bit of writing this summer. Now I feel guilty so I just dashed this chapter off in a day. It hasn't been beta'ed or really even proofread, so sorry for any errors. 
> 
> Now that my kids are back in school I do plan on writing more. So hopefully there'll be another update soon. AND I actually do have the last four chapters outlined! Which is so unlike me!

Bitty skipped dinner. He chose instead to lie on his bed, curled up in the fetal position. It wasn’t like he’d been in  _ love _ with Jasper. But Jasper had been nice, and a good kisser, and Bitty had definitely liked him. He’d liked him enough that it really hurt to have been dumped by him. 

By the time he got hungry, the Great Hall had long since stopped serving dinner. Bitty being who he was, that it didn’t stop him getting food. He made his way down to the main floor and accessed the kitchens by tickling the pear. 

The elves outdid themselves offering Bitty all sorts of comfort foods, though he didn’t tell them why he was so upset. He sat in the kitchen, dipping a crusty baguette into hearty chicken stew and drinking pumpkin juice, while Nonnie and Dobby flitted around nervously, trying to make sure Bitty was OK. 

They sent him on his way with a pouch of handheld chocolate pies to take back to the Gryffindor common room. It was ten at night by this point, and Bitty made his way slowly back to the tower just in time to see Jack and Shitty climbing quietly out of the portrait hole. 

Shitty held his finger to his lips, telling Bitty to be quiet, but held up his bong with a question in his eyes. Bitty nodded. He still wasn’t sure he wanted to smoke pot, but he figured he could use the company. 

They tiptoed, managing to avoid Filch, the ancient Mrs. Norris, and Peeves on their way up to the Owlery. 

Once they settled themselves on the blanket Shitty had sprawled on the owlery floor, they finally began talking in their normal voices. “What were you doing out this late?” Shitty asked Bitty as he packed the bong. 

“I missed dinner,” Bitty answered. “I went to the kitchens to get something to eat.” 

“Why’d you miss dinner?” Shitty asked, he raised his eyebrows at Bitty as he took the first hit of pot. 

Bitty shrugged in response. He was too afraid he’d start crying again if he told Jack and Shitty, and he really wanted to avoid that. Not that he thought they’d judge him for it, but you never knew with other guys. They got weird about tears. Bitty should know, he’d always been one to cry easily. 

Shitty looked carefully at Bitty as he passed the bong to Jack. Shitty wasn’t going to take Bitty’s silence as an answer. As Jack pulled his first hit, Shitty said, “Really. What’s wrong?” 

“Jasper broke up with me,” Bitty admitted quietly. 

Jack started coughing, clouds of pungent smoke releasing from his mouth. Bitty wasn’t sure if he was coughing from the pot, or surprise over the news. 

“Really?” Jack managed to squeak in between coughs.

Shitty, for possibly the first time in his life, was rendered speechless. He was looking from Bitty to Jack and back to Bitty again with what looked like an expectant smile on his face.

“Yes,” Bitty answered as Jack’s coughs subsided. 

There was a silence from all three of them, before Jack managed to stammer out, “Oh. Er-well. I’m sorry about that.” 

“Yeah, Bits,” Shitty said. “It’s too bad.” He didn’t sound like he thought it was bad at all. In fact, he sounded almost chipper at the news. “What happened?” 

“Shitty,” Jack said, rolling his eyes. “Don’t be rude.” 

“If you feel like talking about it,” Shitty added kindly to Bitty. 

Bitty shrugged, “I dunno, honestly. He just didn’t think we were right for each other.” 

“Why?” Jack asked curiously. 

“He just didn’t explain it very well,” Bitty said. “I don’t really know.”

“He’s a smart guy,” Jack said, “He should be better at explaining himself.” 

“He should be, shouldn’t he?” Bitty asked. “I should demand a better explanation.” 

“No,” Shitty said quickly, “You know what? I’ll get a better explanation from him tomorrow.” He held out the bong in Bitty’s direction. 

Bitty hesitated before grabbing it from Shitty, “Show me what to do.” 

Shitty lit his wand tip and used it to light the pot, instructing Bitty how to inhale into his lungs and hold his breath. Bitty had his eyes scrunched tight and felt the smoke in his chest, but he held his breath for as long as he could before exhaling, hacking and coughing the smoke out. 

“Coughing’s good,” Shitty assured him. “It means you inhaled correctly.” He took the bong back and pulled two more hits for himself. 

Shitty passed the bong over to Jack, who was sitting on the owlery floor, staring at Bitty wide-eyed. “Jack,” Shitty said, shaking the bong a little in front of his face. 

Jack jerked out of his thoughts and took the bong back from Shitty to take one more hit. 

Bitty was surprised it only took a little more than a minute for the pot to go straight to his head. It seemed to him that  _ high  _ was the perfect word for what he was feeling. His head was light, but not in a dizzying way, more in a floating way, and he felt his facial muscles, tense from crying earlier, relax into a slow smile. He found it too difficult to care much that Jasper had dumped him just hours earlier. 

He was having fun with Shitty and Jack, the depression over Jasper seemed like something that had happened long ago and to someone else, not mere hours and to himself. He had to remind himself that he was high, and probably Jack wasn’t  _ really  _ flirting with him. It only felt like it. 

An hour or so later, Bitty lay in bed, staring at the burgundy canopy on his four-poster. He couldn’t sleep. He didn’t know if it was the pot or his mind racing. 

He had to stop denying to himself his feelings for Jack Zimmermann. 

He wondered how long you had to appropriately wait after being dumped before going for someone else. How soon was too soon? What was breakup etiquette? 

Bitty rolled to his side and burrowed in under his covers. He chewed his thumbnail thoughtfully. 

was he kidding anyway? Jack Zimmermann was probably going to be a professional Quidditch player. Jack probably wouldn’t want to date a guy like him. He was short and liked to bake and cried to easily and was muggleborn. It was one thing for Jack to be his friend, but expecting more was just foolish.

In the seventh year boys dormitory at the exact same time, Jack was lying in his bed, eyes staring blankly at his own canopy. He was wondering how long a person should have to wait before kissing their recently-dumped crush. 

____

Two days later, Jack and Bitty still hadn’t kissed. They hadn’t made a single move towards one another. Shitty was looking for it, lying in wait. 

“We should just tell them to do it,” Lardo said to him after hearing Shitty go on and on about Jack and Bitty and the time they’re wasting.  They were in the library, where Shitty should have been studying for his N.E.W.T.s, but wasn’t paying a bit of attention to the books in front of him. 

“You can’t do that with Jack,” Shitty said. “It’ll backfire and he’ll retreat into his own little shell. And Bits doesn’t think Jack fancies him like that.” 

Lardo guffawed so loudly she practically snorted. “What? He doesn’t see the moon-eyes? How fucking  _ soft _ Jack Zimmermann’s face goes every time Bitty’s around.” 

“I know, right?” Shitty asked.  

“Guys.” Jasper Leon had slid into an empty seat at their table. 

Shitty narrowed his eyes, “What do you want? You think you can just break my Bitty’s heart and then sit at my library table like nothing fucking happened?” 

Jasper rolled his eyes, “Don’t give me that attitude, Knight. You know why I broke up with Eric.” 

“Why?” Lardo asked curiously. 

“Because it’s obvious he likes Jack Zimmermann more than he ever liked me. I don’t need to be someone who is settled for.” 

Shitty tried hard to maintain his anger at Jasper, but found himself feeling sorry for the guy. “Yeah, well,” he said gruffly. 

“So what’re we going to do about it?” Jasper asked. 

“What do you mean, we?” Shitty asked. 

“Hey, I like Eric. I don’t want my breaking things off with him to have been for nothing. If he and Jack don’t get together I would have wasted a perfectly good boyfriend.” 

“How touching,” Lardo said sarcastically. 

“You know what I mean.” 

“We aren’t going to do anything,” Shitty said. “We are going to leave them the fuck alone and let them figure it out on their own time.” 

Jasper looked at Shitty as though he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Noooo….” he said, the word long and drawn out. “That’s stupid.” 

“You Ravenclaws think everyone else is stupid. Look, I know Jack, all right? And he’s going to have a million reasons why he can’t kiss Bitty yet, and the more you try to explain that all those reasons are stupid, the more he’ll double-down and doubt himself.” 

“You can’t be serious.” 

Shitty nodded emphatically. Lardo looked less convinced. 

Jasper sighed and stood up. “Jesus Christ. I can’t believe you two are making  _ me _ act like a Gryffindor.” And without another word, he turned on his heel and marched out of the library. 

“What’s he doing?” Shitty asked.

Lardo shrugged, “Probably going to be honest with Bitty?” 

Jasper searched the castle high and low. Finally, when the bell rang for a class change, he saw Jack walking out of the History of Magic classroom with another small group of seventh years. 

“Jack!” Jasper called, rushing over to him through the crowd. 

Jack turned, the curious look on his face changing to confusion and suspicion. “What?” 

“Let’s talk,” Jasper said, grabbing Jack by the elbow, not giving him a chance to say no. 

“What?” Jack asked, trying to pull his arm away as Jasper leading him down the hall. 

Jasper found a classroom that seemed empty and pulled Jack in it. It wasn’t quite empty. Peeves had been waiting in the corner, and when the two of them closed the door, he popped out and sang in his oily voice, “Oh, Looky here! We have two of Hogwarts favorite boys who like to kiss boys!” He dashed quickly around the two of them, making kissing noises and blowing raspberries.  

Jack’s face had gone red, and his teeth had clenched. It was clear he was uncomfortable and angry. Jasper on the other hand mildly said, “Peeves, the Fat Friar told the House Elves you aren’t allowed in the kitchens anymore. And I think McGonagall agrees with him. You’d better look into that.” 

Peeves stopped mid-raspberry and looked as Jasper suspiciously. Finally deciding Jasper was trustworthy, he said, “Not allowed in the kitchen! We’ll see about that!” And he zoomed away. 

“That was a total lie,” Jasper said to Jack. “And Peeves will make me pay for it later.” 

“What do you want?” Jack demanded. 

“I want to know if you know why I broke things off with Eric?”

“Because you’re a dick,” Jack said, glowering at Jasper. 

Jasper rolled his eyes, “You try to be a nice guy and a bunch of Gryffindors jump all over you for it.” 

“So you were being nice, huh?” 

“I was to you,” Jasper said. “Look, I’m not an idiot, OK? I could see that Eric likes you more than me, and that you like him too.” 

“What?” Jack asked. 

“Just kiss him already,” Jasper said. He was exasperated, and sounded totally done with this. 

“I can’t kiss someone who’s only just been broken up with!” Jack said. 

Jasper took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “Stop being so fucking noble and worrying about the impropriety of it all,” he said. “I’m giving you  _ permission. _ Hell, I’m actively encouraging this.” 

Jack crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Why are you doing this?” 

“Maybe it sounds crazy,” Jasper said. “But I like Eric. I like him enough that I didn’t want to be his second choice. He’d never be really happy with me, but he would be with you.” 

Jack looked away, his face betraying conflicting feelings. Jasper sighed, “I’m not forcing you to do anything. I know you’ve got the whole professional quidditch thing going on to worry about. I’m just saying, if your reason for not kissing Eric is because you think a certain amount of time needs to pass after I break up with him, that isn’t an issue.” 

Jack licked his lips, “I’ll think about it.”

Jasper could see he wasn’t going to get any further. “Fine.” 

 

_X_ 

Two mornings later, Jack and Bitty were flying around the pitch. Jack hadn’t stopped thinking, even for a second, about his conversation with Jasper. He’d been called out on daydreaming in class by McGonagall and Flitwick. 

“What’s up?” Bitty asked, hovering in the air. He and Jack were supposed to have been racing, but when the race started, Jack wasn’t paying any attention and was staring off into space. 

“Huh?” Jack asked, jolted from his reverie. “Oh, nothing at all. Just distracted.” 

Eric looked at him curiously. “What’s left you distracted?” 

Jack swallowed. He didn’t know how to say it, didn’t know  _ if _ he should anything. He thought of what the Sorting Hat had said to him, that one day he’d prove how much of a Gryffindor he could be.

The cautionary line that always seemed to live inside Jack’s head became suddenly blurred, as though courage were trying to cross it. He inched his broom closer to Bitty’s, and answered him quietly, “You have.” Then he kissed him. 

_X_

Like always, word traveled like fiendfyre at Hogwarts. It took maybe forty eight hours for the rest of the Hogwarts students to find out that Jack Zimmermann was dating Eric Bittle. How that information got out, no one really knew, because Jack and Bitty had only told the rest of their team, and they trusted those guys 100% to keep a secret. Gossip always had a way of existing with no starting point, though in a school like Hogwarts, you could always blame the ghosts or Peeves. 

But Jack Zimmermann was a new man. A man who threw caution to the wind, so he took the attention and the whispers with his head held high. 

“I should probably tell my parents,” Jack said to Bitty one day. 

“Only if you’re ready,” Bitty said, patting Jack’s hand fondly. 

Jack shrugged, “Doesn’t matter if I’m ready, does it? My mum is on the Hogwarts Board of Governors and the gossip among the Board is as bad as it is here.”

“Hmm,” Bitty hummed thoughtfully. “I suppose it’s better they hear it from you than, I don’t know? Who else here has a parent on the board?”

Jack gave Bitty a look that indicated he should know exactly who. It took Bitty a few seconds to guess, “Kent Parson?”

“Of course,” Jack said bitterly, as he reached into his backpack to pull out parchment and one of the ballpoint pens Bitty insisted he use in place of a quill and ink. 

“You’re doing it now?”

“Why not?” Jack asked. He started writing,  _ Dear Mum and Dad.  _ He paused and looked up a Bitty, “Now what?”

Bitty grinned, and together he and Jack worked on crafting Jack’s very important coming out letter to his parents. 

“How do you think they’ll be?” Bitty asked as Jack read the letter over and over obsessively. 

Jack shrugged, “Mum will be fine. I don’t know, I guess she will be. Dad...well. He’ll probably be most concerned about the whole Quidditch thing.”

“What whole Quidditch thing?”

“You know, never been an openly gay male Quidditch player.”

“I didn’t know that, actually,” Bitty said quietly. 

“Yeah. There’ve been a few lesbians, mostly on the Harpies, but no guys yet.” 

Bitty didn’t say anything, crossed his arms in front of his chest and looked down.” 

“What?” Jack asked. 

“We don’t have to do this, you know. We could drop it, you could stay in the closet and go play Quidditch professionally without anyone having to know.” 

Jack looked horrified. “Why would you say that?” 

“Because it’s going to be hard for you,” Bitty said, shocked that Jack would even have to ask. “What kind of scrutiny you’ll get, and I can hardly be worth it.” 

“What do you mean you aren’t worth it?” 

“Well, I’m just...me. Nothing special compared to a professional Quidditch career.” 

Jack closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. “Bits, the idea of not being with you already makes me more anxious than the thought of being an out Quidditch player. And I know from anxiety, yeah?” 

Bitty grinned and looked flushed, pleased. 

They were in the library, surrounded by fellow students, but Jack couldn’t resist. He leaned and placed a quick peck on Bitty’s lips. “I want to do this,” he promised. And, as if to make a point he folded up his parchment and wrote his parents names on the back. 

Across the library, Jasper was watching Bitty and Jack, heads close together, working on writing something. Jasper couldn’t be sure what. Their books were closed, so maybe Quidditch plays? Maybe a letter of some sort. Normally not one to get distracted from his own studies, Jasper found himself staring, until he was jolted by Kent Parson sliding into the seat next to him. 

“Fucking sucks, doesn’t it?”

“It’s fine,” Jasper said. “I’m weirdly happy for them.”

Kent laughed, a bark-like single “Ha!” as though he didn’t believe Jasper.”That’s dragon shit and you know it.” 

“It’s actually not,” Jasper said. “I like Eric, and I want him to be happy. It’s just….” he drifted off, sounding wistful.

“We should start a club, you know,” Kent said. “Screwed over by Jack Zimmermann, we’ll call it. You and I will be founding members.” 

Jasper smiled a little. He didn’t like Kent, but right about now he felt a little bit of delight at hearing someone besmirch Jack Zimmermann’s name. 

“Come on,” Kent said, nudging Jasper in the side. “Don’t let the bastards get you down.” 

“I’m perfectly capable of getting over a breakup, Kent.” Jasper said. 

“You know what’ll help?” Kent asked. 

Jasper fully turned to look at Kent, “What’s that?”

Kent waggled his eyebrows seductively and jerked his head toward the library door. “We could get out of here, and….you know.” 

Jasper bit his lip to keep from grinning. Kent’s chutzpah was something else. “And I know?”

“Let’s go,” Kent stood up and poked Jasper in the side. “The transfiguration classroom is empty and locked, but I stole Filch’s skeleton key, so.” Kent turned and walked slowly toward the library door.

Jasper looked around. No one was paying him any attention. He shrugged, gathered his books, and followed Kent out of the library. 


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter gets pretty M rated as Jack and Bitty sneak into classrooms to get up to sexy shenanigans.

Although Jack and Bitty’s relationship was big news at Hogwarts, the students did eventually get used to it. That their relationship became something that the student body was so easy to accept seemed almost miraculous to Jack. 

And it’s not like it was the entire student body was super accepting. There were some Slytherins, all Quidditch players, who called names, who bullied, who insisted Jack and Bitty didn’t belong on a Quidditch team. That type of thing normally would have bothered Jack, but he was almost a new person with Bitty and the insults rolled right off his back. 

Kent Parson had seen to it that his team stopped the harassment. He explained to them that if any professor overheard them insulting the two gay Quidditch stars at the school, they’d be in for detention at best, and forfeiture at worst. “We’ll beat them on the pitch,” Kent said, “Ignore them in the halls.” 

The truth was, every time one of his teammates, particularly his supposed best friends Warren and Alastair, used a gay slur, it killed Kent a little on the inside. He was the team Captain, and the best player Slytherin had seen in a long time, but he still knew they’d drop him like a hot cauldron if they ever found out he’s gay. 

A streak of ugly jealousy reared up in Kent’s chest whenever he saw Jack and Eric walking side-by-side, sometimes holding hands, and always obvious in their togetherness. It’s not that Kent wanted Eric, or even Jack anymore. It’s not like he even needed a boyfriend. He couldn’t deny though, that having supportive friends and not really having to worry about being publicly gay was a luxury he didn’t have, but which Jack and Eric did. And no, it wasn’t lost on Kent that when Jack was with him he had been closeted, but with Eric he wasn’t. 

Sometimes, when he was honest with himself, Kent knew he didn’t want Jack anymore, but he sure did want Jack’s life. 

_x_

The most surprising thing to Bitty was how  _ affectionate _ Jack Zimmermann was. Quiet, moody, and standoffish on the outside, Jack became a different person when he was well and truly happy with Bitty. Jack was constantly pulling Bitty into empty classrooms to plant kisses on him, or late at night for some heavy makeout sessions. 

Peeves was sick of walking in on it, and even complained loudly to Professor McGonagall who managed to hit him with a tongue-tying hex before the entire school, just sitting down for breakfast, could hear Peeves complaints about Jack Zimmerman´s obsession with holding Eric Bittle’s butt. 

McGonagall pulled Jack aside, “Just not in front of Peeves, anymore Mr. Zimmermann, if you want to keep your private life private.” She gave him a stern look, and walked away as he and Bitty gaped, red faced, at her. 

Later that night, Jack and Bitty snuck into an unused classroom. “Peeves?” Jack called out. There was no answer and Jack continued, “If you’re in here, clear out. You might not like what you’re going to see.” 

Peeves didn’t appear and Bitty giggled, as Jack locked the door and turned toward him, planting a crushing kiss on Bitty’s lips. Bitty moaned into the kiss. He didn’t have a lot of experience, just with Jasper and Jack, but Jack didn’t seem to mind. His lips were talented and could make Bitty melt. 

Bitty’s resolve to take things slow was waning day by day. He and Jack had progressed to getting their shirts off and peppering each other’s chests with kisses. 

But this night it was different. Jack transfigured a few desks into a large cushy bed and it was the first time they made out lying down instead of standing up. With Bitty sitting astride Jack, it was the first time he realized he could feel Jack’s erection through his jeans. It made Bitty want Jack all the more. He didn’t know how to ask for it, so he unbuttoned his jeans and placed Jack’s hands over the opening. 

Jack’s eyes went wide, “You sure?” he asked Bitty. 

Bitty nodded, “Yes, Jack.” His voice cracked a bit as he added, “I want you to.” 

Jack eagerly wasted no time undoing Bitty’s trousers and sticking his hand down the front on his pants. Bitty made a small whine in the back of his throat as Jack cupped his cock and balls. 

“Oh blimey,” Bitty moaned. This was too good. Way better than he expected and way better than when he touched himself. 

“Can you get your trousers off?” Jack asked. “They’re kind of tight. It’s hard to move my hand around.” 

Bitty gulped. He did, in fact, want very badly to get his trousers off. But he hadn’t been naked around anyone outside a locker room in...well, ever. He took a deep breath and nodded.

Jack noticed Bitty’s hands shaking slightly as he stood to pull down his pants. “Hey, Bits. We don’t need to do this yet.” 

“No, I want to,” Bitty said. “I’ve just never…” 

“You didn’t with Jasper?” 

“No,” Bitty answered. “We only ever kissed.” 

Jack knew that shouldn’t have pleased him as much as it did. He knew it made him a huge hypocrite because he and Kent had actually had sex, and it was stupid to be happy that Eric hadn’t. He tried not to smile as he said, “It’s fine. We can go slow.”

“I want it,” Bitty assured him, as he finished pulling off his pants and stood awkwardly in front of Jack, who was still on the floor. 

Jack took a moment to stare Bitty up and down, drinking in the sight of his body, flushed and all lean muscle. Bitty’s chest was nearly hairless, but he had a small patch of light brown hair below his belly button, that lead down to a thatch of slightly darker brown pubic hair, out of which Bitty’s erect penis stood. 

Jack was so intent on Bitty’s body it took him a moment to realize that Bitty probably felt awkward being the only naked one. So he made quick order of his clothes, threw them to the side and had Bitty lie down with him. 

“What do you want?” Jack asked as he kissed Bitty’s neck and behind his ears. 

“I don’t know,” Bitty said breathlessly. “Just….touch me.” 

Jack reached down and wrapped his hand carefully around Bitty’s cock and gave it a few strokes. Bitty’s breath hitched and he made another small whine in the back of his throat. “Good?” Jack asked.

“Mm-hmm,” Bitty nodded, hitching his hips up a little to match Jack’s stroking rhythm. “This is good,” he said. 

Jack kissed Bitty while continuing to stroke him. Bitty grew harder in Jack’s capable hands, as he continued to thrust into Jack’s fist. Bitty had one hand on Jack’s bicep, the other curled into the bedsheets, grabbing as though his life depended on it. 

“Jack,” he gasped. “I think I’m going to come.” 

“Do it,” Jack urged, speeding up the rhythm of his stroke. 

Bitty bit his lip before crying out as he came, thick and white, over his stomach. Jack slowed his pace and Bitty lazily continued to thrust three, four more times as he rode out his orgasm. As Bitty caught his breath, Jack rolled on top of Bitty and hovered above him on all fours, his dick hard and leaking pre-come from the tip. Jack leaned down and kissed Bitty hard on the lips, as he dipped his hips into Bitty’s and thrust a few times. 

“Let me touch you,” Bitty said, reach a hand between their bodies as Jack continued to frot against Bitty. 

Jack leaned back to allow Bitty space to grip him. Bitty gave a few experimental wanks and looked Jack in the eyes. “Is this good? I’ve never done this before.” 

“It’s perfect,” Jack said in a strained voice, as he thrust into Bitty’s hand to try and set a good rhythm. Bitty instantly picked it up, and moved his wrist in time with Jack’s thrusts. In no time at all, Jack was grunting (and Gods, Bitty couldn’t believe how turned on a  _ grunt _ could make him) and thrusting even harder. 

“Ah, Bits,” Jack said as semen spilled over Bitty’s fingers and onto his body, their mixed come pooling together in Bitty’s navel. 

Jack’s knees were shaking and he needed a moment to catch his breath. Finally, he grabbed his wand and performed a quick cleaning charm on Bitty, whose stomach was getting dry, cold, and sticky. Then he lay down next to Bitty and cuddled in. 

It’d been a long time since Jack had felt so happy. In the back of his mind, he knew it wouldn’t last. He was waiting for the other bludger to drop, metaphorically speaking. But in the meantime? This was good. He could ignore whatever was going on in the back of his mind for now. 

_X_

It had been weeks since Jack had owled the letter to his parents, and he still hadn’t heard back from them. Jack was starting to get the nagging feeling that his parents’ reaction was going to be the bad thing that he expected. He kept his worries to himself though, not wanting to bother Bitty with them. 

Finally, three weeks to the day since his letter had been sent, his owl, Zeus, returned, bringing him Bob and Alicia’s responses. 

_ Dear Jack, _

_ I love you and there is nothing you could ever do to make your father and I stop loving you. I love you whether you’re gay or straight or bi. You’re perfect the way you are, and I’m happy that you felt like you could tell us you’re gay.  _

_ I know you, Jack, and I know you’ve probably been worried about how long it’s taken us to respond. Please don’t despair, we’ve been out of the country on a small vacation. Zeus brought us the letter the day we left, but somehow we didn’t read it until we got back.  _

_ Please know that there is nothing you can’t tell us, Jack. We are your parents and when we talk about loving you unconditionally, that is just it - there are no conditions for our love.  _

_ We will be there for your final Quidditch match of the season. We can’t wait. _

_ Love, Mum _   
  


_   
_

_ Dear Jack, _

_ I want to reiterate everything you mum said to you up there. She’s a smart one, your mum. And she’s absolutely correct on this. We love you and always will.  _

_ I’m guessing there is a reason you sent us this letter? I’m wondering if there’s a bloke we don’t know about? If so, he is very welcome to come visit this summer.  _

_ On a more serious note, you probably know that there haven’t been any openly gay male pro Quidditch players. I’m not sure what your plan is on that front, whether you’re going to stay in the closet or try to be the first out player. Either way, you can count on my full support. I want you to do whatever will be best for you, whether that’s professionally, personally or emotionally. You want me to make a statement? Done. You want me to shut my mouth? Done. The quaffle’s in your goalpost, kiddo. I’m proud to follow your lead.  _

_ Take care of yourself, son. I will see you in a few weeks at your Slytherin match.  _

_ Love, Dad.  _

  


Jack looked up, smiling. “It’s good,” he said handing the letter to Bitty.

Bitty took the letter and read it, tears springing to his eyes. “Oh, Jack. I’m so happy for you.” 

“I know,” Jack said. He took a deep breath, that nagging feeling in the back of his mind was growing fainter. He had Bitty. He has the support of his parents. He had the best quidditch team Gryffindor has seen since Harry Potter himself was seeker. Maybe things would be all right.    
  


_X_

The game against Slytherin was only a week away. Tensions between the two houses had never been higher, with several scuffles breaking out in the halls between classes. Jack had put his team under strict orders not to give in to Slytherin taunting, but there was nothing he could do to stop the non-playing Gryffindors from retaliating. 

For his part, Kent was able to reign in the gay slurs his own team had been using against, not just Jack and Eric, but against all the Gryffindor players. Slughorn himself had had to give detentions to some of the Slytherins not on the quidditch team for use of the slurs. 

Madame Hooch had to be brought in to mediate a schedule for the pitch for practices, as each team wanted as much time as possible. McGonagall had to forbid Slytherins from watching Gryffindor practices and vice versa She tsked, “I know it’s important, but you students need to make sure you’re studying for final exams just as much as practicing.” No one paid her any attention as the fervor in this rivalry increased day by day. 

Jack was working the Gryffindors hard. Plays were built around Bitty’s speed, Jack’s strength, and Shitty’s passing ability. Though Jack would have loved to be allowed to spy on Slytherin’s practices, he was relieved that no Slytherins were watching them. 

Every night for two weeks, the Gryffindor team dragged their bodies from the pitch back to the common room where they made a half-hearted attempt at doing homework and studying, but usually failed before collapsing into bed and falling asleep. Even Jack and Bitty were too tired to sneak out of the common room and find an empty room where they could snog. 

They were ready for this game. In their minds, it was all Quidditch, all the time. 


	16. Chapter 16

The Friday before the game there was no Quidditch practice for the Gryffindors. Not only did Jack want his team well-rested, but Bob and Alicia were staying in Hogsmeade and Jack had gotten permission to have dinner with his parents Friday evening. Dinner was going to happen early, then Jack had interviews with four different Quidditch team coaches; The Kenmare Kestrels, Wimbourne Wasps, Chudley Cannons, and Puddlemere United. Bob would never push it, but he was hoping Jack would end up playing for the Kestrels, his old team. 

Jack met his parents at the restaurant, kissed them both on their cheeks and sat down, opening his menu. His parents were looking at him expectantly. “What?” he asked. 

Alicia raised her eyebrows, “We aren’t going to talk about your letter?” 

Jack shrugged, “Yeah, well. Everything I had to say I said in the letter, didn’t I?” 

“Did you though?” Alicia asked. “Is there someone you’re seeing?” 

Jack squirmed, but couldn’t help smiling. “There is!” Bob declared joyfully. “Who is it?” 

“You met him,” Jack said. “Before we got back on the train after the Christmas holidays. Eric Bittle.” 

“The Chaser from your team?” Bob asked in shock. 

“The one who sent the cakes and cinnamon rolls?” Alicia asked. 

“Yes,” Jack nodded. “That’s him.” 

“Lovely!” Alicia said, looking radiantly happy. 

Bob looked mildly puzzled, but when Jack shot him a questioning look, he smiled and said, “That’s wonderful, son. You should have brought him to dinner.” 

“Well, I’ve got these interviews afterwards…” Jack drifted off. 

“Are you nervous?” Bob asked. 

“Yes,” Jack admitted. It wasn’t easy for Jack to admit that much. Normally he would have said no, and then rebuffed any help offered by his father. But something had shifted in him recently, and he wasn’t so ashamed to have emotions that were less than perfect. 

“The important thing is to just be yourself,” Bob said. “Keep your focus on your game and what you’ve accomplished these past few years.” 

“I’m telling them I’m gay,” Jack told Bob. He kept his voice even, trying to gauge Bob’s reaction. “I want to see how they handle it.” 

Bob was thoughtful for a few moments. “You know your mother and I support you.” Alicia nodded emphatically. “This is your choice now Jack, you’re of age and it’s entirely up to you.” 

“I don’t really want to hide who I am. I don’t want to hide Bitty.” 

“Bitty?” 

Jack’s face relaxed into a soft smile, “That’s the nickname Ransom and Holster, you know Justin and Adam, gave him.” 

Bob and Alicia exchanged grins, and Jack knew it was because he looked happy, something they hadn’t seen in awhile. “We support you,” Alicia said again, emphatically. 

Jack wanted to ask his dad for advice on these Quidditch interviews, but Bob and Alicia kept changing the subject and peppering him with questions about Bitty.

“What do his parents do?” 

“Where’s he from?”

“What else can he bake?”

“Figure skating, huh? What exactly is that?” 

Jack tried to answer them patiently, and by the time dinner was over, he realized he’d barely gotten to talk to his dad about the interviews. Still, even just talking about Bitty relaxed him, and he wondered briefly if that had been his parents intent. To ask about Bitty as a way to calm him down.

Jack was meeting with the scouts from the teams alone. He was of age now, and he was afraid having his parents there would make him look childish. He waited in a small private room in the Three Broomsticks for his first team interviewer to arrive. 

His first interview was with the scout from Puddlemere United, Theodosius Belbringer. Belbringer had come prepared with a contract and everything. They’d barely sat down and shaken hands when he started talking numbers, “We’re prepared to offer a base of two hundred thousand galleons per year. Those numbers would go up with each goal scored being with an extra five hundred galleons, and each playoff game won being an extra ten thousand galleons. I’m certain this is the best money you’ll be offered.” 

Jack was silent for a few moments. He’d barely thought about the money. He’d grown up with two professional Quidditch player parents; money had never been an issue. “How is your team unity?” Jack asked. 

Belbringer looked surprised to hear the question. “All the players are there to win,” he said. “We know a united front is the only way that’ll happen.” 

“What about off the pitch?” 

“I don’t know what you mean,” Belbringer said. He looked aggrieved, as though this wasn’t something he should be dealing with. 

“Well let’s say one of your players gets in the news for something not related to quidditch. How would the team react?” 

“You mean like some kind of scandal?” 

“Say,” Jack pretended to think for a moment, “Being gay.” 

“Shit,” Belbringer said. “Are you trying to tell me you are?”

“Yes,” Jack said. 

Belbringer looked at the contract, frowning slightly. “I suppose if we told the other players, we could instruct them that they aren’t allowed to tell anyone. We could make it a contractual-”

“What if the gay player wanted to be out?” 

Belbringer looked up at him, “Why the bloody hell would he want to do that? That seems like he’d just be putting himself out there to be beat up in the press and by opposing fans. I think, no. I think the team would have to request that you stay closeted, Jack.” 

Jack stood up and extended his hand, “Thank you for your time, Mr. Belbringer.” 

Belbringer stammered, “Surely you aren’t leaving galleons like this on the table, Jack?” 

“I’m looking for something you can’t provide me.” 

“You think you’re going to find what you’re looking for at all? Stop fooling yourself, child. I guarantee you every other team you’re meeting with is going to say the same thing.”

“If that’s the case, I’ll keep you in mind,” Jack said coolly. He sat back down, not letting his eye contact break. 

Belbringer spluttered, “Well, I wish you luck,” he said in a voice that couldn’t have been less sincere. 

Jack watched him leave the room. His hands were shaking slightly, and he was embarrassed to admit how much he wanted his mother there with him. Until he’d met Bitty, it was Alicia who’d always been the best at calming Jack down. He took a few calming breaths, the way Bitty mentioned he’d done before figure skating competitions. 

He felt marginally better when his next interviewer, Zed Westshadow from the Wimbourne Wasps, came into the room. He looked pleased that Jack hadn’t immediately signed with Puddlemere. 

Zed Westshadow was also the opposite of Theodosius Belbringer in many ways. Behind Ludo Bagman, Westshadow was one of the most famous of all the Wimbourne Wasps in history. A chaser who scored a record-setting twenty five goals in one game to with the League Cup two decades earlier, Westshadow was built an awful lot like Bob Zimmermann. Tall and broad-shouldered, with a hint of a middle aged pudge starting to pop out around his mid-section. 

He was also much kinder to Jack from the get go, shaking his hand effusively, and saying, “It’s an absolute pleasure to meet you Jack. I’ve heard so much about you. I’ve had you in mind since I saw you on a scouting trip back in your fourth year. I was here to watch Violet Rube, but I noticed you. Oh yes, I decided then and there I’d come visit you your seventh year.” 

Jack was at ease, and he and Westshadow talked for several minutes about Quidditch, about the games he played, about Jack’s dad, before getting down to business. 

“Now, unlike my colleague from Puddlemere,” he began, “I don’t want you to make a decision immediately. I want to show you what we can offer, and let you think about it.” 

“All right,” Jack agreed. 

Westshadow brought out the contract, which was smaller than Puddlemere’s, but only slightly. He also had photographs of the team’s facilities. “We’ve just redone the locker room,” Westshadow said proudly. Jack had to admit, the photos looked amazing. The locker room was large, but cozy. Team banners were strung up everywhere, and there were trainer’s tables, massage tables, Dozens of extra brooms (Brooms made for high-wind situations, brooms made for heavy usage, and brooms made for extra speed), and a lounge for visiting family members. 

“We like to think we’re a family,” Westshadow said. 

“How would this family deal with a gay family member?” Jack asked. He kept his voice light, casual, as though he were asking about something as simple as meal plans. 

“We had a gay player. About ten years ago.”

Jack looked up quickly, his attention piqued. “Really?” 

“Indeed. The team worked very hard to keep it a secret. We even found the bloke a girl who pretended to be his girlfriend in public.” 

“And he was alright with that?” 

Westshadow shrugged, “I suppose. It was what was best for the team, and that’s what we’re looking for in a Quidditch player, someone who will selflessly do what’s best for the team.” 

“Hmm,” Jack said, trying to sound more thoughtful than judgmental. 

“Look,” Westshadow said in a placating voice. “It doesn’t bother me, personally, if you’re gay. There’s just an image we have to think of, and we have to concern ourselves with ticket sales and things like that. It’s not personal...it’s just business.” 

“Business,” Jack repeated back, trying to decide if this was worth the argument. After a moment’s thought he decided it wasn’t worth it. He had two more interviews to get through. “You know, I’ll keep you in mind,” Jack said pleasantly. “Like you said, you don’t want me to make a decision immediately, so I’ve got these other interviews.” 

“Right, of course.” Westshadow seemed wholly unaware that Jack hadn’t been happy with his answer about a gay player. Westshadow shook Jack’s hand and exited the room, whistling a jaunty tune. 

Jack sat back in his chair and sighed. His hopes for these next two interviews were quickly fading. 

“Jack! My boy! How you’ve grown!” came a booming voice from the door. 

“Rufus,” Jack said, happy to see a friendly face. Jack had grown up around the Kenmare Kestrels, and Rufus Britt, the longtime Kenmare scout, had been one of his father’s closest friends and had been something of an Uncle to Jack. If he couldn’t trust Rufus, he didn’t know who he could trust. 

The two of them took several minutes to catch up, Rufus showing Jack pictures of his children, the oldest of whom would be starting at Hogwarts the following year. Jack talked about his classes, his upcoming N.E.W.T.s and the next day’s game against Slytherin. 

“We’ve been keeping an eye on you for quite a while, Jack. Well, I guess that’d be obvious. We’d love to have had a pair of Zimmermanns with the Kestrels. I know we can’t offer Puddlemere money, no one can. But you’re like family, and I hope that means something.” 

“It does,” Jack said. 

“Great! Listen, between you and me, I think I can get the team to open up their coffers for a few more galleons.” 

“I’m not super concerned about the money,” Jack said. “I’m more interested in the family aspect of playing on a team. You know, my Gryffindor team this year is amazing. We are like a family and we support each other no matter what.” 

“Terrific! I like to think we’d have that type of camaraderie among our players.” 

“Supportive team, supportive players,” Jack said. 

Rufus nodded, “Absolutely.” 

“So even supportive if a player wanted to come out publicly.”

Rufus stared at him blankly, “Come out? Of where?” 

Now, Rufus was an old guy, but he couldn’t have been that out of touch. “ As gay,” Jack said. 

“Oh!” Rufus was at a loss for words. 

“Yeah,” Jack said. “So if I, er someone, were to want to come out, how would a team that’s supportive like a family handle it?” 

“Well,” Rufus said, gently. “I’m not quite sure. You know there haven’t been any players who were...uh, well,” he waved his hand to finish his sentence as though he couldn’t bring himself to say the word. 

“Gay?” Jack supplied. 

“Right,” Rufus said, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. “I don’t think I’d actually recommend a player put that kind of pressure on himself. Especially not his first year in the league.” 

“But if the player really wanted it?” 

Rufus tilted his head and squinted at Jack, as though trying to work something out in his brain. “Have you talked to your dad about this?” 

“Yes.”

“And what does he say?”

“He said he’ll support me no matter what.” 

“But did he give you any advice? Let you know how things are in professional Quidditch?” 

“I’m of age,” Jack said, now annoyed. “He knows it’s my decision.” 

“Well, listen. Like I said that first year, I think you’d want to keep in quiet. The team could put out feelers, among fans, press, that sort of thing and we could revisit in the next year. You especially, Jack. You’d be coming into the league with so much pressure already, what with who your dad is. I don’t think the extra baggage would be worth it to you in that first year.” 

Jack nodded. He understood what Rufus was saying. Truly, he did, and in a way he could see the wisdom of that. The problem was, that even if Jack didn’t come out in year one of his career, he wanted to be on a team that he knew, without reservation, would be supportive of him. Finally Jack said, “I get it. I’ll get back to you Rufus.” 

Rufus looked both uncomfortable and relieved. They shook hands and Jack directed Rufus to where Bob was, so they could have a visit as well.

Jack’s hopes were practically zero. 

Georgia Martin played for the Holyhead Harpies after Alicia Zimmermann had retired, so Jack never met her. He knew of her though. A powerful chaser, Georgia became the first woman to hold any high end position in British Professional Quidditch when the Chudley Cannons hired her immediately after she retired due to injury. It was only her second year. 

It had been since 1892 that the Cannons last won the league championship. In 1972, the club motto was changed from “We shall conquer,” to “Let’s keep our fingers crossed and hope for the best.” Georgia Martin’s first order of business was to return to the original motto. “It’s defeatist,” she explained. “I won’t have that attitude on my team.” 

It was true. The Cannons had gotten complacent with losing. They almost seemed to relish in their role as lovable losers. Not many people held the Cannons as their favorite team, but they seemed to be nearly everyone’s second favorite. People could always seem to relate to perennial underdogs. 

Jack hadn’t even wanted to interview with them, really. He was only interviewing them to spite Kent Parson, whom he’d overheard laughing about how he’d rather not play professional Quidditch at all than play for a bunch of losers like the Cannons. When Jack had accepted Georgia’s interview request, she been profoundly surprised. 

She was an imposing woman, nearly as tall as Jack himself and even in her muggle suit, he could tell she was powerfully built. 

He stood and shook her hand, “Ms. Martin,” he said, “Nice to meet you.” 

“Please call me George," she said warmly. 

“George,” Jack repeated. 

They sat down and began their discussion. George was professional in her demeanor, but not in  a way that made Jack nervous. As with most scouts, they started with talking about money.

“Jack, thank you so much for meeting with me. The Cannons are under new management, and I really think with a player like you we could turn things around. The Cannons are prepared to offer you a contract worth one hundred thousand galleons, with bonuses for goals scored, games won and making it to the playoffs.”

Jack was through listening to people try to convince him with money. He didn’t need money, his inheritance was enough that he really didn’t even have to work if he didn’t want to. “Listen,” Jack said, probably sounding more impatient than he wanted, “I’m not playing Quidditch for the money. I’m after an experience.” 

George smiled, relieved to not have to go through the spiel she’d memorized. Visibly relaxing a little, she asked, “Tell me more what you’re looking for, and I’ll tell you what the Cannons can do for you.”

“So I’m looking for a team that’s close on and off the pitch. A real supportive team.” 

“Great,” George said. “We’re the only team in the European League that offers housing to our players. We have our own small village in Chudley where the players and staff and their families can live if they choose.” 

“Really?”

“Yes. The house would probably be a step down from Zimmerman Manor, but it’s there if you want, and you’d be neighbors with your teammates.” 

“And teammates are supportive?”

“Well, sure,” George answered. “We all have the same goal.” 

“But, off the pitch?” 

George looked at Jack critically. “You sound like you have a specific issue you want to talk about. Whatever it is, you can ask me.” 

“If I wanted to be openly gay.”

Jack had barely finished the sentence when George said, “That’s fine.” 

It wasn’t the answer Jack had been expecting, so it took him a moment to realize what she’d said. “What? Seriously?” 

“Of course. Jack, I’m the first openly gay Quidditch Coach, it would be wildly hypocritical for me to tell one of my players he can’t be open. For Merlin’s sake, you’ll face scrutiny, you’ll get called names and it might totally suck for you. But you will absolutely always have the support of the team, and if there’s tension amongst the team because of it, it wouldn’t be taken out on you.” 

“Oh,” Jack said. Now that he’d gotten exactly the answer he wanted, he didn’t know what to say.

“Can I talk about the unusual plans I have for building the Cannons?” 

“Yes,” Jack said, relieved to have George to the talking.

George began talking about the problems with the European Quidditch Leagues, and how even though it is the best League in the world, no one ever wants to hire good non-European players. George has all her current players in their last one to three years in their contracts, and she plans on filling up the rosters with players other teams wouldn’t be looking for. Contacting Jack was obviously a necessity, but she hadn’t actually banked on him agreeing to an interview. 

The more Jack listened, the more he couldn’t believe how much he wanted to play for Chudley. He imagined the joy among all of Britain if he could be the one to bring the league trophy to the team after more than 140 years. 

It wasn’t just that, though. It was the unquestioning acceptance of his sexuality. It was George’s passion for the game, and her ability to think outside the box on how to make a winning team a possibility. It was that he felt far more relaxed with George than he had with any other Quidditch representative he’d met with that day - including Rufus Britt. 

By the time George stopped speaking, Jack knew where he was going to be playing. 

“I’m in,” he said. 

George broke out in a smile, “Jack.” Now she was the one who seemed speechless.

“I’m quite impressed by everything you’ve said here,” Jack said. “I’m ready to sign today.” 

“Of course,” George said. She reached into her bag and pulled out a sheaf of parchment. “I have the contract drawn up. We can go through it, and negotiate a bit.”

“Can I have my parents in here for this?” Jack asked. 

“Of course.” 

Jack got up and went into the parlor, where his parents were having drinks with Rufus Britt. He motioned them over and whispered to them, “Chudley. I’m going to play for the Cannons.” 

Both parents quickly masked their looks of surprise.

“Of course,” Alicia said, squeezing Jack’s arm a bit. “Wherever you’re comfortable playing.” 

“I just wanted you guys to come and help me with this contract stuff.” 

“Absolutely,” Bob said, slapping Jack on the back.  “Let’s see what they’re offering.” 

Bob and Alicia proudly followed their son into the next room, to help him plan his future. 


End file.
